For Their Hearts
by Adi88
Summary: Hatori, Shigure and Yuki are closest to Akito. They're also closest to Ayame. And the battle for their hearts has been won for a long time now...


AN: Just a few quick things. One: I apologize to the WHOLE WORLD for the messy timeline. I HATE it when people do this, but I've got to post this thing, so I'll edit the times later. For now, just believe it when it's said that Yuki is seven or whatever. And sorry this is all one chapter. I'm still working this thing out.

Two: Thanks to Ina-chan! She very generously allowed me to use her idea from "Storm Beneath Calm Waters" for some very integral parts of this story, and frankly, you'd be better served to go read that. Just come back when you're done, okay?

Three: Okay! The story is about to be reloaded; let's pray it works. And let's pray I can get some kind of break between POVs to stay this time.

Dedication: For Ina-chan, because without her this story would never have been finished, and for yukiislikesnow because without her this story would never have been started, due to my having committed suicide.

Chapter One

Sohma Akito stares at shards of white on brown.

They should be here. Hatori is his _doctor_; what if something happened to him? And how long can it take to pick up Yuki? _His_ Yuki. Neither of them has any right to keep him waiting like this.

The white – pottery up until a few minutes ago when he threw it at a servant girl who will doubtless be more economic with her time from now on - shifts as the door slides open.

Kureno's auburn hair falls over his warm eyes as he looks down at the broken dish with some worry. "Is everything -"

"No, it is not," Akito snaps. "What did they say?"

Kureno, who had been charged with calling Shigure's residence to ascertain what was keeping Akito's intended, says, "They weren't stalling, Akito. Shigure decided to come, and I believe there was something about a fight between the neko and one of the others… things come up…"

"So they were stalling." Akito's voice drips like poisoned honey, and Kureno flinches. "Have they left now, or did someone realize a good program on television absolutely couldn't be missed?"

"No, they are on their way. Honda-san said they'd left ten or fifteen minutes ago."

"How long can it take them to get here, do you think? Maybe if they have to pull over to pick up some groceries I'll be asleep by the time they do."

"Akito, I'm sure – It's just that not everyone is as good at circumventing circumstances as you are. And you wouldn't want a doctor who could just leave someone in pain, would you? The neko might have been – might have hurt someone."

Akito can feel the rage in him at this pathetic defense, from Kureno no less. Kureno is on his side. "Do not speak to me as if I am a child you can dissuade with distractions –"

And then it hits him, a roaring in his ears and an emptiness in his stomach that pulls at his heart. He drops to his knees, gasping for air that doesn't seem to have enough oxygen, and Kureno is instantly there, cradling him. "Akito? Akito-sama, what is it? Hold on, I'll get your medicine -"

"No," Akito gasps, regaining control. "No, it's not me. It's them."

"What are -"

"Someone – more than one…" The initial shock fades and he cannot feel the suctioning as clearly, defenses coming back up. He tears at them, holding his breath until he's dizzy to lower them again. "My juunishi are hurt. Three of them. Call… call anyone. Find out who it is." The baka ondori stares at him, eyes wide, and he flails, landing a useless blow on his cheek as venomous frustration breaks though. "Go! Find out who it is!"

Kureno might well believe he's hallucinating, but he leaves the room and he'll call. That's the important thing. He can pay for his disrespect later.

He hasn't felt this… nothing this bad. When he threw Isuzu through a window he felt it, a bit, when her head cracked on the ground. He can always feel a sting, if he lets himself, when he beats them. He certainly felt it when he took Hatori's eye... But over all this, he's built up blocks to keep their pain away, at least for a time, and his human mind has always blocked his godhead somewhat to cling to the shreds of sanity.

He regrets it now. He can feel them hovering, but he can't tell who it is. They're too far away, too indistinct.

He hates not knowing. Not knowing anything. Knowing is all he has.

But he waits, hating his helplessness, until a servant comes in, kneeling in the open doorway. "Akito-sama, Kureno-san asked that I deliver a message to you."

"Yes?" His voice is a whiplash of impatience, and the servant – a Sohma boy from some branch or other – shivers.

"He said that Ritsu-san is with his mother at the springs, and is perfectly fine, and that Hatsuharu-san, Kisa-san, Hiro-san and Momiji-san are together at Hatori-san's house and safe as well. He is contacting the others now, and wonders if you are sure that you are well yourself."

"Just go! Bring me back news of the others."

"Yes, Akito-sama."

Akito drags himself to his futon, hands clenching into fists and teeth grinding the way Hatori is always telling him not to allow. Not good for them.

_And how much longer need they last? Five years? Six? Or mere months? _

_What can it matter?_

The servant is back. Time must have passed more quickly than he realized…

"Akito-sama, the neko is fine. Ayame-san, too, is fine. Kagura-san seems to be out with friends, but Kureno-san will reach her shortly."

"No need," Akito says distantly. "Tell him to come to me." The servant says something – obeying – but Akito isn't listening. Three of them, all at once. They were together, then. And that means none of them were Kagura. It leaves the three on their way here. And Hatori… They could be lying somewhere, transformed, and no doctor who knew how to handle such a situation. Who would even bother to help an inu and a nezumi lying by the side of the road? Who would even notice a seahorse?

Kureno walks in and says softly, "Akito, please tell me what happened. Why do you think someone is hurt? Couldn't you be mistaken?"

"Idiot!" Akito hisses. "You think I would trouble myself over some vague premonition? I am not superstitious, Kureno. I know that this is serious. Send someone to search the roads between here and Shigure's house and then come back here to me."

Kureno bows and retreats silently. He believes Akito now. Akito is only shocked that it's taken this long. A doubting Thomas, then… He'll have to remind Kureno how things work here. A few weeks ago, he never would have had to.

Time slides by again, and Kureno is back. They're searching, and will call as soon as they have news. He says something else, too, but Akito isn't listening to the words. He likes Kureno's voice, though, so he lets that wrap itself around him.

And then the shrill noise cuts through the air, one Akito hasn't heard in ages in this room. A phone ringing. His private line, one that only four people have the number to. Two of them are always here, one wouldn't use it if his life depended on it, and in the end only Shigure calls on it. Akito rarely even uses it for outgoing calls, preferring to control the family affairs by letter and computer to hearing the whining voices. He'd forgotten it was there, it seems.

Still, he has it to his ear before the first ring has died. "Yes?" He snaps.

"Sohma Akito?"

"Who is this?" He growls suspiciously. A woman with a polite, tired voice, one he is certain he has not heard before.

"I'm Moto Toshio, calling from Mercy Hospital. There's been an accident." She keeps talking, and Akito listens as he stares at the floorboards, the way the pattern of the wood looks like water. Before she's done, he says, "Are they in surgery yet?"

"Yes, I believe so, Sohma-san."

"Then it is of vital importance that you do as I say without question. Put me through to someone who has the authority to tell the surgeons what to do, and do it now."

"Yes, Sohma-san."

One could say that it's materialistic, the way the huge Sohma family manipulates everything to their liking. The obscene amount of wealth and property they are in possession of would make an economically caring person spit.

It's a very good thing Akito could care less for the starving children in Africa and Asia, because it's just saved the lives of three of the people that mean more to him than anything on earth. The name gives an amount of leeway in a town that they own over half of under various firms.

It's why, when the supervisor gets on the line and Akito tells him that the lives of three very important people depend on his sedating them to the point of danger during surgery, and that if he does not comply and/or it does not work, he can count on losing his position and looking forward to a career in elementary school janitorial services, he is taken very seriously.

When he hangs up, Kureno is staring at him, wide-eyed. Akito takes a breath, trying to calm himself.

_But why them? Why these three, why all of them? Yuki… Shigure… Hatori… Not them. _

"Kureno?"

"Yes, Akito?"

"Have a car brought around. We're leaving. And hurry."

* * *

Nineteen Years Earlier

Hatori, Shigure, and Ayame wait silently. Well, in theory. Ha-san is, and even Gure is managing it, but Ayame is bored and he can't help but fidget.

As the youngest of the juunishi, along with Kureno, who at six is two years younger than them, they are the last to meet the newborn god. Just now, standing in an antechamber, Aya doesn't see why there's so much fuss.

He remembers two weeks ago, waking sweating and crying, dreams and memories not his mixing together to play in his mind and fleeing before anything is revealed as their god was born. He remembers feeling someone else's heart pumping his blood. He remembers sneaking to Gure's house for comfort, only to find that the dog had had the same dreams. That all the juunishi had.

Or he would, if he could concentrate. At the moment, what he really remembers is how nice chairs are. They've been standing here for ages.

He wants to go outside and play.

He looks over at his friends. Hatori is silent and respectful, patient as always. It would be nice to have that kind of patience, probably. But Ha-san's always like that; what unnerves him is that Gure, who's always moving or talking or humming, _something_, is just standing there, staring at the door as if transfixed. Not respectfully, not because he should, but because he's fascinated. He looks like a dog pointing.

Aya giggles at the thought, and the spell fractures, Gure looking over at him with warm gray eyes and smiling. Ha-san glares at him, but Aya's used to that and is just glad to have their eyes back on him. Away from that door.

Shigure looks over and down at Kureno, who is looking from them to the door and back, probably wishing there was an adult. None of them are free from trepidation at the prospect of seeing, not simply their god, but Ren-sama.

Aya had forgotten he was there, but Hatori absently offers him a hand and the smaller boy gratefully takes it. Aya twists his mouth prettily, torn between jealousy and wishing that he'd thought to comfort the boy. Hatori makes it look so easy, thinking of other people, and Shigure seems to be able to turn on and off the instinct at will. Aya, though, cannot seem to get in the habit. There are people he loves, of course, but thinking of them doesn't come easily and as for everyone else, he honestly doesn't care.

He is shaken from his thoughts by the door sliding open, a servant exiting and gesturing for them to go forward. "Ren-sama will see you now," she announces coldly, bowing to them because Ren is watching and then retreating.

Aya reaches out, palms sweating suddenly, and Shigure, who never minds that sort of thing, takes his hand. This, of course, means that when Shigure is the first in, Aya is right next to him.

The room is dark and musky, smelling of Ren-sama's perfume and dust. A huge, Western-style bed, the only Western thing in the Main House to Aya's knowledge, dominates the room with shadows, its curtains creating a hole of deeper black in the dark.

"Come closer," Ren-sama's throaty voice demands, and they do. Shigure's movements are quick, strained, as if he can't get there fast enough, and it makes Aya nervous.

They line up alongside the bed, able to see nothing in the gloom even with their exceptional eyesight. It reminds him of the horror movies he wasn't supposed to see, with things lurking in the black, and he wishes fervently for a light.

Something moves, and his wish is granted even as his heart leaps to his throat. A dim bedhead lamp silhouettes Ren against its glow, and she lifts the incredibly tiny baby up to see them, tilting him to the side so that they can see his face as he sees them.

And he does see them. Infant or no, those obsidian pools of fate rip Aya open, see every fault and virtue and sear them into place. He feels part of his soul swallowed up in those eyes.

But Aya's never been one to let any one thing hold his attention for long when Ha-san and Gure are in the room.

When he looks at them, he almost wishes he hadn't. Hatori's piece of soul is given so freely, so trustingly and thoughtlessly. And Shigure… Aya knows suddenly that he could have fought it. Of all of them, Shigure would have been able to hold his own. But he considers the options, and, enthralled, chooses this one.

But really, how long could he have resisted?

Aya looks up at his god. He doesn't like this. Ha-san and Gure are his. They love him. His parents don't, but they do. And he would never, ever hurt them.

He doesn't think this baby can say the same.

"Akito-sama," Ren rasps with dark amusement, "meet your angels."

* * *

Akito has memories he shouldn't. Memories made by others, memories from before he should have been able to comprehend what was happening around him. Memories from before he _was_.

But he has other memories too; normal if rather early and clear ones, and he likes to take them out and look at them from time to time.

This is his first memory of Shigure:

He is young… maybe two or three… and he is playing in the small, enclosed garden that Mother has allowed him into since he is doing so well today, and he particularly wanted to go outside. She said that if he was so anxious to be outside, he could stay there, so he isn't sure when he'll be allowed back in. He hopes by the time it's dark, in a vague way, because he doesn't want to relapse and have to stay in bed for weeks on end again.

He suspects that she wants this, as punishment.

He is building small stone houses. He likes houses. They hold so much, and you get used to them and stop thinking about it, but they own you. They remember everything, about you and your family for generations back.

So he's building them in a circle around himself, to keep him safe, and when a shadow falls on him he looks up crossly, expecting a servant.

Instead, Shigure's untidy hair and foolish smile greet him as the older boy crouches to near his eye-level where he sits on the grass. Though this is his earliest proper memory, even in it he knows that Shigure's is a familiar face.

"What are you doing?" Shigure asks, without so much as a bow or a respectful suffix.

"Why weren't you announced?" Akito snaps, nonplussed.

Shigure pulls a face. "All that fuss makes me nervous. I snuck in." He smiles disarmingly. "Do you mind?"

Akito considers and finds he doesn't. Whatever Mother says about making people respect him, he doesn't like the way they bow their heads and hide their eyes.

He wants to see their, see every thought in their heads. They're his, aren't they?

But he doesn't say this yet. He says, "Why are you here?"

Shigure shrugs. "Do I hafta have a reason? I wanted to play with you."

Akito smiles sweetly and meets the older boy's gaze, trapping his eyes.

_I know you, Shigure. I know you do nothing without a reason. Nothing that does not benefit you in the long run. _

Shigure meets the eyes that tear out secrets even his best friends only guess at and smiles. "Akito," he says gently, "one of my reasons is that I just want to be your friend because you're an interesting kid and you deserve some friendship. Do you really care about the other ones right now?"

Akito, startled that his ransacking has not dissuaded the boy, shakes his head honestly.

"Good." Shigure flops down flat on his stomach. "So can I help build?"

Akito nods. "Just don't let Mother see you."

Shigure picks up a stone at random and starts to build a thirteenth house. "Ah, yes, mothers. They can be sort of weird, huh?"

Mother isn't weird. She's scary. But it's nice to pretend otherwise.

Akito smiles and hands Shigure a rock with awkward, baby hands.

* * *

And this is his first memory of Hatori:

He is four, running in that same garden, and he trips and falls. He thinks he did it on purpose, because he knows what will happen.

Hatori, there every evening after school and his friends are done with him – every evening Mother will let him come in, that is – goes from a sentinel on the sidelines to Akito's side in seconds.

He is scooped up in respectful, caring hands and set on the stoop. The twelve-year-old kneels before him, already examining his face for bruises or tears with the calm concern that means it's Akito he's worried for, not himself if Ren finds he let her son get hurt.

"Are you all right, Akito-sama?"

Akito starts to say no on general principle, to see what Hatori will do, but then feels the stinging and a warm trickle from his knee and his face crumples. "No," he says with honesty.

"Where does it hurt?"

He points imperiously to his knee, willing it to stop. He's a god and he doesn't want it to hurt.

Hatori folds back his yukata just enough to see his knee, tucking it under his legs for decency with an absence that suggests he hasn't noticed what he's doing as he examines the scratch.

"Just a graze," he says. "I'll fetch something to clean it with and a bandage, if you wish."

Akito nods, and when Hatori starts to stand he throws himself off the stoop and into the dragon's arms. "It hurts," he sniffles, tears starting, the ones Mother doesn't want to see, as he lets himself feel all the hidden bruises he's not to speak of.

Hatori stiffens at the disrespectful contact with his god. And then, because his god is only a little boy, he rubs his back gently and stands, holding him close. "I'll make it better," he promises.

Akito pulls back just enough to see his blue eyes, like a river in the summer sun. "What if I fall again?"

"I'll make it better again. I'll make it better as long as I live. Promise."

* * *

And this is first memory of Yuki:

He is three years old, nearly to the day, when Yuki is born. Already people are afraid of him. There is a wall around him, created by his legend, by his mother, by eyes that stare into a person's soul and laugh at what they find.

Already he has to hurt them, sometimes, to break that wall.

But this baby… this baby won't have walls.

It looks odd, wrinkly and red and so tiny. Premature, like all of the cursed children, but unhealthy in a way they usually aren't. There is a tank attached to the baby, tubes in its nose, and it can't leave the hospital yet. Its doctors are on the Sohma payroll, in case it transforms in front of them. The tubes are loose, so as to fall away when the nose holding them disappears, shrinks away.

Into a nezumi.

Yes, it looks odd. But he can feel that pulse in his heart, can feel its soul in his hands.

He was weak and ill when he was born, too.

Its mother stares at him from her hospital bed, drained. "They may have to isolate him," she says.

_Not from me. _

"He's another one of yours. Just like the last one."

_Yes, my baby. More mine than yours. _

Behind him, Mother says, "His name is Yuki. He's the nezumi, Akito-sama. You remember the legend of the nezumi. He'll be very close to you, your very own."

"Yes," Akito agrees, straining to see better as Mother holds him up level with the edge of the crib. At his voice, sleepy gray eyes open, eyes lighter than his but otherwise the same.

_You'll be mine, Yuki. Just mine, no walls between us. You'll be all mine. _

_

* * *

_

Chapter Two

Present

Ayame can't breathe.

His heart pounds too fast, blood crying out for oxygen that doesn't seem to be there as he races up the steps of the hospital.

_He'll be fine,_ he tells himself without knowing whom he's thinking of.

_They'll all be fine. They have to be. _

He tries to calm down, but his reasons for living, all three of them, are lying on metal tables with blades inside them, liable to completely change shape at any moment, and he simply can't.

_Why? How? How all of them like this? Who was driving, what were they thinking? _

_What if they don't wake up? _

He runs into the emergency waiting room and a young lady behind the desk looks up. "Sohma Ayame?" She inquires. She's a Sohma herself, which is how she knew to call him when his brother was checked into surgery. If she hadn't been… if she had had a different shift…

But she's here, now, and he is extremely distinctive so it's no wonder she's recognized him though, in a family the size of his, he can hardly be expected to recognize her.

"Yes! Yes I am. Where are they? Are – are they still -"

"They're fine, Ayame-san." She comes out from behind the desk, leading him down a hallway. "I mean, they… they're in surgery still, but they should be fine once they stabilize."

"Oh god." Ayame puts a slender hand to his mouth.

"They're receiving the very best care. The family has contacts in the emergency response system, so they're in top hospital for miles with excellent surgeons. I assure you, every effort is being made, especially with the Master here."

"The… Master…" They turn a corner onto another hall, lined with doors and deadly quiet. There is a cluster of chairs along one bare wall, and one of them is occupied.

Kureno – _Kureno? Outside?_ – sits with his long body folded into the hard chair. In his lap, drawn and wan, Akito is curled.

The nurse gestures to the doors opposite the pair. "Your brother and cousins are through there. As soon as they're done, you'll know." She drops a nervous, sympathetic bow and scurries away.

Ayame stands silent and helpless, a spot of red and silver in the awful stained-white hallway, and just like always there is nothing he can do.

Akito, wound in a black-and-scarlet yukata rather than his outside clothes – but then, he wouldn't have had time to change, would he – slides from Kureno's arms to stand facing the hebi.

Already, a cruel smile in playing over his lips, and Ayame flinches. Generally, he and Akito stay clear of each other, but now he's here, and Akito is hurting.

Akito tends to make sure that his misery has company.

"Look who's here," Akito drawls, walking towards the older man slowly. "And so upset. I'd almost forgotten how pretty you are with tears in your eyes, Ayame." He's standing directly in front of him now, small white hands with perfectly manicured nails caressing Aya's face. "So who are you so concerned for, Shigure or Hatori? Is it your friend or your love who has you so off balance?"

He doesn't even mention Yuki, and Ayame knows he's done it on purpose, saying more with silence than words ever could, the condemnation of god bringing all his guilt crashing back down.

But he doesn't flinch outwardly, doesn't give Akito more ammunition for what's long done. "Do you know how they are?" He asks.

Akito's smile falters and he leans closer for support that Ayame gives, feeling sick but unable to move away. "Yes," he whispers. "But not how they'll be."

* * *

Twenty-three Years Earlier

Ayame stares at the other children judiciously, sizing up how best to make his entrance from the cloakroom.

It is just a small gathering of Sohma children, to make sure that the next generation is socialized with the Right People from an early age. An easy crowd, really.

But before he can take the room by storm, a hand closes on his wrist.

He opens his mouth to give a shocked screech that will bring everyone within a mile running, but another hand closes on his mouth and an amusedly friendly voice in his ear says, "You too?"

The person lets go and Ayame spins to face them with his formidable wrath, but the big, warm grin under the floppy hair of a boy his own age makes him giggle and he loses credibility.

"Me too what?" He asks and instantly forgets the question, sticking out his hand like the grown-ups do and saying, "I am the great Sohma Ayame!"

"And I am the equally great Sohma Shigure," the boy says, taking his hand and appearing at a loss for a moment before bowing over it before kissing it lightly like grown-ups in weird old movies. Ayame decides he likes the boy.

"What's 'equally'?" He asks.

Shigure's grin grows wider. "I don't know exactly. You're just so cute, I wanted to impress you!"

Ayame feels his face grow warm and asks, "Really? I mean, of course I am. But really?"

"Yup! Let's find someone to ask what equally means." Still holding Ayame's hand, Shigure sets out for the room at large.

"Okay," Ayame agrees easily. He feels safe with his hand in this boy's, and like maybe… maybe, since Shigure is clearly great and cute, if _he_ thinks Ayame is too then maybe it's really truly real. Maybe his parents will agree someday and Mama will stop ignoring him.

Shigure's sparkling gray eyes scan the room quickly, and he comes to a decision just as Ayame starts to fidget, pointing firmly to a corner and saying, "There!"

It isn't a grown-up he's chosen, Ayame sees as they make their way over, but a boy their age with serious purple eyes and very neat black hair. His clothes are Western, a sharp contrast to the mainly Japanese style of the room and everyone else's clothing. He's sitting very straight on a chair, reading, and he doesn't look interested in the room at large in the slightest.

When they skip into place in front of him, he looks up slowly, face vaguely unnerved, but Ayame puts him at ease instantly with, "Hi! We are the great Sohmas Ayame and Shigure, and do you know what… what was the word again?"

"Equally," Shigure supplies. "What's your name?"

"Hatori," the serious boy says cautiously.

"You're great too," Shigure announces. "So we should stick together."

"I should actually practice reading some more," Hatori says. "My Father doesn't like it when I waste time."

"Then he shouldn't have had kids," Shigure answers with a grin. "It's what we do. And you're here, aren't you? It would be wasting time to read, which you can do at home, when you could play with us. Because we don't live at your house."

Ayame tugs the book gently from Hatori's hands, flipping through it briefly. "Pretty pictures," he says before putting it down. "Now, don't you want to play with us?" He pouts and clasps his hands. "Please?"

Hatori looks at them hopefully, then his eyes darken. "But I'm not… normal," he hedges carefully.

"Well, no. You're great," Shigure agrees. "Are you cursed too? Because I am. I'm the inu. I think I heard my parents talking about you. I think you're the ryu."

Hatori's eyes widen. They're such pretty eyes. "… Yes," he confirms.

"Me too!" Ayame squeals, jumping up and down. "I'm the hebi!"

_Special. _

_Monster. _

Shigure grabs one of Hatori's hands with his free one and Ayame takes the other. "We can take care of each other," Shigure decides.

"Yeah!" Ayame cries instantly.

Hatori hesitates, and then he finally smiles and says, "All right."

Ayame's chest feels tight and warm, and he realizes he's happy.

* * *

Sixteen Years Ago

Ayame waits.

He plays cards with Shigure and Hatori while he waits, but he's still waiting. They all know it's nearly midnight and that if the other two boys are caught in Aya's room – having sneaked out of their respective houses at his request – at least two of them will be in serious trouble.

They're only here because of Aya. Because of Aya's mother. Because she was raced to the hospital nine hours ago and three months too early.

"-but really what was I _supposed _to say? I mean, the thing _did_ look awful on him and it would have absolutely killed me to allow him to wear it around school all week. Besides which the look on his face – don't give me that look, Ha-san! I didn't hurt his feelings!" But at least Tori _is_ looking at him. It's always nice… flustering… to find that Tori listens when he jabbers.

"Do you think this one will make her happy?"

Stupid. He shouldn't have said that out loud.

"I mean, after _me_ how could another child live up to her expectations?" _And what if he's dead right now, my baby brother – it's too early, much to early… and what if he's… _

"It would be difficult to match you," Shigure agrees in a smothered tone. "I mean, sheer volume alone…"

Back in safe territory, Ayame pounces on Shigure, knocking him flat and proceeding to tickle him mercilessly. "Oh, Gure-chan, you have wounded my fragile heart!" He wails.

Hatori, with a sigh for the abandoned card game, pulls Aya off their helpless friend. "You two, would you keep it down? It's bad enough that we're breaking the rules in the first place, there's no need to get caught at it as well."

Aya and Gure exchange furtive glances. Shigure's parents wouldn't care if he showed up after three months missing and covered in tribal tattoos. Ayame's mother would be furious for propriety's sake, but at least she would have to speak to him to yell at him. His father certainly wouldn't be too put out.

But Tori's father…

"We're sorry."

"We'll be good."

With huge grins and exaggerated silence, they settle back down, Aya making a lock-and-throw-away-the-key gesture.

This bores him quickly. He figures the lock has rusted and broken open by now.

"What do you think he'll be like?"

"What do you want him to be like?" Shigure asks, scooping up some cards.

"Ooh… I don't know!" He is keeping his voice down, though, because Ha-san asked him to. "I hope… I hope he's just like me. Only normal. Boring, even. Very good in school, and… and quiet and very proper and polite…" _And everything Mother wants me to be, because maybe if she has it she can relax. Maybe she can love me then. _

Then, footsteps on the stairs. Hatori freezes Gure-san's giggles with a frigid glance from warm purple eyes, and the unruly boy drags their stoic friend behind the bed.

A servant knocks softly on the door – only a servant would bother to knock on Aya's door – and says softly, "Ayame-san?"

Aya knows no one will yell at him for being awake himself, so he opens the door instantly. "Yes?"

"Your mother has called from the hospital. She wishes for your presence there."

"She – she does? Why, is – is the baby – how are they? Is she all right? Is my brother as fabulous as I am?" He smiles, because people like it when you smile.

The servant looks at him distantly. "Very much so. Your brother is cursed. There is a car waiting for you at the front, so if you will come down…"

Cursed.

"I'll be right there." Ayame closes the door in her face and leans his forehead against it.

_No. No, not him too. Not him… it can't happen twice… _

He turns as Hatori and Shigure rise from their hiding place, Hatori straightening his shirt with a glare at their opportunistic friend. Even this doesn't last, though, as they look to Ayame.

"He'll be just like me! And I can dress him up and play with him and protect him-" Ayame mouths empty words, jumping up and down in place with a grin.

"Aya-" Ha-san starts, but Gure-san cuts him off, flinging his arms around the snake.

"Nonsense! Who could ever match your sheer magnificence?"

Aya returns the embrace desperately, and Gure whispers in his ear, "Aya-chan… people don't just change for one big reason. Even if you or the new one were normal… she'd still be the same person. It's no one's fault."

Ayame breaks away. "Wha-"

Hatori touches his sleeve. "Aya, you should get going. But we'll be here when you get back." He meets Aya's golden eyes. _Always. _

Aya nods, unable, for once, to speak, and then he races away to meet his brother.

* * *

The hospital is the best, of course. Mother would never go to anything less, not even the way she was rushed out with servants on the phone with emergency services.

But it's still a hospital. It still has lights that glare and hum, a sick smell of chemicals and cleaner and the things the cleaner was supposed to cover.

She sits in her hospital bed, propped up. She looks old, make-up for once not tastefully, perfectly in place, cruel lights turning her ivory skin yellow. The crib at the foot of her bed looks like a spaceship, all metal and plastic with lights blinking and things whirring. He's sick, the baby.

"Another one like you," she says.

Ayame looks down at the wrinkly little thing, which would be ugly if it wasn't so small and delicate.

He remembers Ha-san talking about how babies look the way they do – chubby cheeks, big eyes, perfect miniature fingers – because evolutionary instincts tell us that this is cute. That they look helpless and should be protected.

Knowing that it's all chemical suggestion and instinct makes it easier that he doesn't feel much of an urge to protect him.

"What's his name?" He asks. Doesn't mean to, but find he has.

"You name it," she says. At his look, she glares. "I'm not going to and your father can find out that it was… early… when he gets back. You're not to tell him if he bothers to call." A pause, and she adds impatiently, "Usually I can't get you to shut your mouth. Now name it, or I'll use the first name that comes to mind."

Ayame looks down at him. The nezumi. He knows that he must be … old Shouta died just a few days ago. He just never thought…

He opens his eyes a slit. They're gray, slate gray. Like the sky in winter when the clouds are thick with snow.

"Yuki," Ayame says. He should have a proper name. It isn't his fault he isn't spring like he was supposed to be, that he's just more winter.

"Fine." After a moment, she adds, "The nezumi. He has a high position. He'll be close to Akito."

At the mention of the Head, Ayame's eyes narrow. Yuki is _his_ brother, after all. "Just because of some legend-"

"Akito-sama is proving to be a traditionalist. And his mother encourages it."

Aya looks down at the baby again. Any feeling that he might have allowed, might have forced, dies or is pushed away completely.

_Sorry, Yuki… but there's nothing I can do. _

_And if he has you… maybe he won't need Ha-san and Gure-san. Maybe he'll leave us alone. _

_

* * *

_

Chapter Three

Present

They careen into the hallway, stinking of outside smells. Exhaust fumes, sweat, cheap perfume… this last presumably from the Honda woman and not the stupid cat.

"Oh! Ayame-san, you must be so worried! Are you all right? Are they? How are they? Sohma-kun and Shigure-san and Hatori-san -"

"Shut up," Akito hisses, whirling from Kureno's supporting embrace.

Honda Tohru pales. She hadn't seen him, and now she drops a deep bow. "Ah, Akito-sama! You must be worried too, I apologize!" Horrible brown hair in those putrescent yellow ribbons falls into her face.

Akito ignores this, turning to Kureno. "Why are they here?" He growls to the only one in the room he can stand. He loves Ayame and the monster, of course, but that doesn't make them tolerable.

"The hospital called us, same as you," Kyo responds belligerently. "Only we didn't have a limo waiting on our every whim like some pampered -"

Akito can move very quickly when he wants to, and he likes the way those red eyes widen when he's suddenly standing inches away. "Cease prattling while I'm still in the mood to allow your stay here," he whispers, putting a dead-white hand on the tanned boy's arm just above his bracelet.

"Please, Akito-sama," the Honda women says softly, distracting him. "Can you tell us how they are?"

Disgusted at the outsider's overdone concern, Akito returns to Kureno, who like a good boy has remained silent. He waves a dismissive hand at Ayame, indicating permission to speak.

"Ah Tohru-chan, it's so kind of you!" The hebi instantly gushes. Really, they're a match made in heaven, with their oppressive noise and joy. Although his Momitchi would give them a run for their money.

Golden eyes overflow as Ayame continues, "They're fine as far as we know, but…" he falls silent as Akito again steps over. He doesn't like that thought, of them as a match. Ayame is his.

Standing between the woman and his seated hebi, he picks up a lock of silver hair and winds it around one of his fingers. "I won't let them die," he whispers. "I want them here."

Ayame's body shakes once, in what could be a stifled sob or hysterical laughter, then goes still.

Akito hates this place, all sharp and bright and cold. Who knows how long they'll be here?

He pushes past the Honda woman without quite touching her and pushes Kureno back to their chair, taking his lap again. It's uncomfortable, but better than sitting on the chair itself.

"Now no one speak," he snaps. "I need to concentrate."

Pale, stupid, helpless faces gawp at him, Ayame's eyes filled with hate and hope.

He closes his own.

_He can always feel them, if he tries. All of their lives, their blood pumped by his heart, strands of life leading out from his to give them energy, and feeding power and decay back in. They suck from him, vampires, leeches, parasites that he cannot help but love. _

_And he can feel three of those strands fraying. _

_He reaches out, inside, and grabs them, pouring life into them. _

_They don't get to leave. Knotted ropes are stronger anyway. _

_They'll stay with him. _

_

* * *

_

Eleven Years Ago

Haaaa-saaaan!" Ayame whines, winding a lock of hair around his finger. "Ha-san, you can't ignore me. I'm class president. I command you to stop reading and pay attention to me this instant!"

Hatori, seated opposite him at their lunch table, sighs and finally drags his eyes up from the college-level textbook he's reading for fun.

"Yes, Ayame?" He enquires curtly.

Aya beams disarmingly. "I just wanted to see if that would work. Where's Gure-san?"

"He said he was going to the men's room a few minutes before you showed up."

"That long ago? Ha-san, he must be in trouble! Maybe he's sick! He could be puking his guts out!"

"Aya. You just sat down sixty seconds ago," Tori responds with long-suffering patience, eyes being magnetically dragged back to the text.

"How do you know? You've been far and away in the land of-" he grabs the book skillfully and glances at the cover, "-something I can't pronounce but which looks vaguely obscene…"

"Ayame."

The tone merits instant book replacement and both hands clapped promisingly over Aya's mouth.

While Tori is flipping to find his place, Shigure shows and flops down on the bench dramatically, head on Aya's lap.

"Oh, Gure, what's wrong?" Aya coos, kissing the tip of his nose as best as possible in their cramped position.

"Nothing really," Gure-san replies. "Just that the sheer weight of my greatness overcomes me at times."

"Ah, yes! And who better to commiserate and share your burden than the only other two people in the world as great as yourself? Who else knows so intimately the pains of this responsibility?"

Gure leers up at him comfortably, crossing his legs. "Talk about intimacy some more, Aya. It brings my, ahem, _spirits_ up."

Ha-san groans. "We're in public, you two."

"Maybe the younger boys will learn something. They all look up to Aya, you know. It's important that they learn open-mindedness and loyalty in the face of oppression-"

"I'm more worried that they'll take pictures again," Ha-san mutters.

"That was once!"

"And if Akito-sama ever saw-"

"He won't," Gure assures him, popping his head over the edge of the table to meet Tori's eyes. "Those boys wanted the picture for their very private collection, I assure you."

"What are you-" Hatori blushes charmingly and stops talking.

"But no more kissing in public for awhile," Aya compromises just to see the worried relief in Tori's eyes. "We could never do anything to cause concern to beloved Ha-san, could we? Of course not!"

Gure swings himself upright, elbows on the table as he sprawls, in interesting contrast to the perfect posture of his friends. "Speaking of Akito," he says slowly, ignoring the perfect opportunity to recount all the times they _had_ caused concern for Ha-san, "isn't Yuki moving in with him today?"

"Hmm?" Aya frowns when he realizes the question in directed at him specifically. He doesn't want to talk about Akito, or think about how close the boy is to his best friends despite his efforts to protect them.

_From what? He's just an eight-year-old boy. Just… _

"Your brother," Hatori says in carefully measured tones, not looking at him but unable to keep the disappointment from his eyes. The look he gets when Aya does something casually cruel, funny at the time but embarrassing when Ha-san makes him think.

"Oh… I don't know… yes?"

He remembers something about it now, but the boy – _how old is he now? Four, five?_ – spends all his time with Akito anyway, so it's not much of a change. Anyway, he's always sick and Akito has a personal doctor on call – it'll be better for him.

"Do you want to –"

"Oh, there's Makun! I apologize, my loves, but I absolutely must dash. Student council business, sacrifice of love to duty, you know how it is!" And he runs, as if the eyes, sparkling gray and glowing purple, will stop staring at his back.

* * *

"See you later, Aya! Pray that my heart survives the absence!" Shigure calls as his friend's white hair shimmers up the path to his parent's house in the compound. He and Ha-san are headed to the Main House.

By unspoken agreement, Aya does not accompany them on these after-school visits, not unless Akito requests his presence, which happens almost never.

As they walk into the house, they can hear Ayame's mother's voice, sharp and irritated, muffled by the walls.

"… I'll hit you! …"

There's more, but it can't be made out and they don't mention it. A lot of things don't get mentioned, in this family. Apparently, having one secret has legitimized all others.

This amuses Shigure, since the very secret he's going to destroy has given him the genes and the practice to wear a mask so well that it ceases to be one. As Sohmas go, he is mind-numbingly normal and sane. And if someone happens to trust Ha-san more than he – and Ha-san does have an entirely different kind of trustworthiness – well, who's to say he won't be in the room when one of the younger juunishi confides? Or that Ha-san won't tell him after? It's just Shigure. And Shigure loves Ha-san too much to betray any kind of confidence that he weasels out of him.

Convenient.

They go straight to Akito's rooms, avoiding any route Aya and Yuki's mother will take on the way out. She won't linger.

Hatori's knock brings a quick, "Come in," from heavy silence, and when they do their god is not alone.

Yuki isn't with him yet, but his doctor is. Kouta-san, a heavyset Sohma in his fifties, looks simultaneously relieved and annoyed the teens' presence. Akito wastes no time on such ambivalence.

The precocious eight-year-old instantly pushes himself up from his futon and walks to the kneeling pair, putting his hands on their shoulders to steady himself. "Hatori," Akito demands imperiously, "tell him I don't need the pills."

"What pills?" Hatori asks instead.

Akito, instead of exploding with rage at stalled obedience, or even making those narrowed eyes that remind Shigure so much of Ayame, elaborates. "For my headache."

Shigure doesn't even have to look at Hatori to know that the ryu doesn't see it, doesn't notice his influence on the boy.

Gure is not that honest and shortsighted. He loves Akito very much, and he knows the power that gives him.

"He needs to take some Ambien," Kouta grates. "Maybe you can convince him."

"Out." Akito's voice is like a whip cracking, and the six-foot man flinches, rubbing at his arm before bowing and exiting.

"So?" Akito looks expectantly at Hatori, who, sitting on his feet, is only a head shorter than the adorable boy.

"Kouta-san is your doctor," Tori says with downcast eyes and thin lips.

Already hearing the answer he wants, Akito releases Shigure's shoulder to play with Tori's hair. "But…?"

"My opinion is that of a high-school student," Tori protests.

"_But_…?"

"Kouta-san's generation…" Hatori says unwillingly, torn between respect for his elders and the magnetic dark gray eyes, "they concentrate on medication as a response to problems. I wonder if he considered all the options, is all. However, if you want your headache gone within the hour, you should take the pills."

Akito tugs his hair gently, mouth twisting. "All his pills are soporific. I have no wish… when even my mind is slow…"

Shigure, a healthy, active boy, cannot imagine what it must be like for Akito. Aside from his bursts of unnatural strength, the child tires quickly and has no immune system to speak of. His mind is often all he has.

"Besides, I need to be awake. Yuki's moving in today, and it would be rude not to be fully aware."

Gure _knows_ the look Ha-san won't be able to keep off his face, that trepidatious one, and he jumps to distract.

And, since he can't afford to ignore his own motivations anymore than he can anyone else's, he admits to himself that, with Akito hanging off Hatori and speaking of Yuki, using those words no eight-year-old should know… he's jealous.

So he wraps an arm around the boy's fragile waist, tugging him down onto his lap and blowing in his ear playfully, eliciting a childish giggle.

No one touches Akito. He touches them; he decides when the walls around him will be breached. No one but Shigure.

"I will massage away the headache with my magical touch!" He announces, flexing his fingers.

"Coming from you, that makes me want to call child protection services," Hatori mutters, though a smile tugs at his lips as Akito contentedly slides from Gure's sloped knees to the floor.

"Aw! Ha-san's meeeean."

"Ha-san's right," Akito corrects. "You should pretend to be less perverted." But he's smiling, distracted from Yuki.

"But don't you two love me just the way I am? Don't you think daily; Shigure's the greatest! I hope he never changes!" He protests, making good on his promise and rubbing the boy's temples gently.

"You never will," Akito says with calm, ringing certainty.

Gure almost falters, but doesn't.

"Do you want the pills, or should I fetch something else for your headache, Akito-sama?" Hatori asks respectfully.

"Something else," Akito says placidly. The dragon bows, stands, and is gone.

* * *

When Hatori returns a few minutes later with a cup of hot feverfew tea, privately certain that the headache will dissolve on its own given distraction enough, Akito is sitting on Shigure's folded legs before a small table, building a house of playing cards.

"… but of course, I couldn't possibly so no to such a heartfelt offer from the girl – oh, Ha-san." The teen gives an ostentatiously nervous giggle. "I'll tell you later, Akito…"

"Thank you, Hatori," Akito says regally, taking the cup and smiling up at him sweetly from behind eyes filled with millennia forced into eight years, power in a place too small.

"Well…" Shigure says, "with your permission, we should get along, Akito-sama. Homework, you know."

"Mm." Akito doesn't give permission yet. "You know, I never see Ayame."

"You know him," Gure responds flippantly as Hatori blinks nervously. "Bit fluttery. Crook your finger once and he'll come running. Fall in love with you, never to leave your side. Hm, Ha-san?" He grins mischievously up at his friend.

"Yes," Akito agrees absently. "All right, then. You are both dismissed. And you needn't tell Ayame I wish to see him yet." He smiles at them, a smile that reminds Hatori why the keep Aya away from here. "After all, I have his brother. It wouldn't do to ignore Yuki. It might hurt his feelings."

Shigure stands, sliding the boy to the floor, and bows. Tori does the same. "As you wish," Gure says.

Akito watches two-thirds of his Trio leave to find their missing piece, pretending it has anything to do with schoolwork Hatori could do in his sleep and that Shigure won't bother with unless the mood strikes him.

This bears looking into, though it can wait. He's too lenient with those three, but he suspects he always will be.

And then he stands and walks to the doors, whipping them open and calling out.

His Yuki is here; he heard him arrive earlier. He is too kind not to give the boy some time to adjust, so he let things lie while Hatori and Shigure were here.

Time's up.

A servant, some lower-ranking Sohma, is there in seconds.

"Get Yuki," he says, and slams the doors.

* * *

Only a few minutes later, one of the doors slides open and Yuki slips in, the servant closing it behind him. The tiny figure, gray hair curtaining his eyes, kneels and touches his forehead to the mats.

"Yuki," Akito acknowledges fondly, holding out his arms. "Come here."

Yuki climbs slowly to his feet, head stubbornly down, and walks with equal reluctance. Akito is not in the mood to blame him, and he did get a rather severe beating last time he was here, not to mention several hours in his special room. He deserved it, of course, but that doesn't mean he expects to boy to enjoy it.

When he reaches the older boy and is embraced gently, Yuki collapses into the welcome arms, shaking with tears he won't shed yet and burying his face in Akito's shoulder.

Akito pulls him forward onto his lap, stroking his hair. "There, there, my Yuki. What's wrong?"

"N – nothing."

"Yuki-kun, you know I don't like it when you lie," Akito coos. "And you can tell me anything."

"I – it's just, Akito-sama, she didn't even… she just left me…"

"Nonsense. She didn't just leave you. Even by Sohma standards, she is reaping considerable gain in both finance and status in return for turning you over."

Yuki is silent, considering for a moment, and then he pulls away enough to look at Akito with big, beautiful eyes. All eyes are prettier with tears in them; making them sparkle the way joy does in books, magnifying them.

"But she's my mother…"

"Not really, Yuki. Mothers love you. And you're nothing to her. Your mother, your father, your brother… they see you for how useless you are. And I… I don't care. I love you anyway, and I always will. You'll always have me."

* * *

Chapter Four

Present

Ayame watches the ugly linoleum swim before his eyes.

_It's all his fault they're here. He keeps hurting everyone, keeps hurting them… Why them? _

_Is he helping? _

Akito's eyelids are flickering; it's not just Aya's vision as he wipes his golden eyes clear of tears and sleep. Akito's eyes are moving wildly beneath nearly blue lids, and Ayame might worry that an attack is approaching, only Kureno, who has far more experience in this area, is watching their god with complacent concern rather than true worry.

And those pools of lightless black snap open, meeting his for a moment before they skid away to the corner. Ayame follows his gaze and a moment later, the small crowd arrives.

Haru and his entourage of children, Momitchi distraught at their head, enter the hallway. Haru is carrying a red-eyed Kisa, Hiro dragging behind and looking as if he could stand to be carried himself if his temperament allowed it.

The blond usagi cries, "Oh Tohru!" And makes to leap to her for that precious moment of embracing before he turns, but Haru clamps a hand on his shoulder. Kisa, too, starts to say something and sees what Haru has. Akito glares daggers at them all, doubtless furious that the sight of Tohru-chan could obscure him even for moments.

"How are they?" Haru asks in his imperturbable monotone.

"They're still in surgery, Hatsuharu-san," Tohru offers gently, reaching up from her seat and relieving him of Kisa. "We don't know."

"But they'll be okay, won't they On - Tohru-chan?" Kisa asks, eyes flickering to Akito shyly.

"I hope so, Kisa-chan! I hope so very much! We must be strong for them!" Tohru declares with tears in her chocolate eyes.

Ayame stares at her for a moment, wondering how his cursed family could possibly have been so blessed.

Directly to Akito, Haru says, "How are they really?"

"Shigure will be fine," Akito declares with weary conviction, standing. "He was the easiest to pull back."

Ayame drops his head into his hands, the first tears of relief shaking his body.

_Gure… _

"Hatori and Yuki are proving more problematic. But they are not going to die, one way or another." Akito's arms snake around Haru's neck. "Remind me why I owe you an explanation?"

"You don't," Haru says immovably, not moving even to take his left hand from its pocket. "I just wondered."

Akito glares at him a moment longer, then slumps, resting his head on Haru's shoulder. Haru pats his back with his free hand calmly.

Ayame sees most things very simply. Haru loves and protects his brother, not to mention provides virtually endless material for teasing the uptight Yuki - _if he lives_ - so Haru equals good. And Akito draped on Haru does not bode especially well for the boy.

"Um, Akito-san, if I might suggest," he stammers uncertainly. And, since he has no idea what he'll say next even if Akito does bother to acknowledge him – which, for several painfully long seconds, it seems he will not – it strikes him as a very good thing when one of the doors across from them opens.

A doctor in blood-spattered scrubs walks out, rubbing her eyes tiredly with a hand wrinkled from too long in a plastic glove. She blinks at Akito and Haru's odd embrace, but says simply, "Sohmas?"

"Yes." Every bit of Akito's casual regality is poured into the word as he turns, and the doctor drops an instinctive bow to the consumptive boy dressed in robes that look too large, seconds ago hanging off a boy younger than he and dressed completely in leather and metal.

"The surgery is over for Sohmas Shigure and Yuki. Shigure is stable, and will wake when the medication wears off. Yuki…" she sighs. "We've done all we can and we have every hope of his recovery. Sohma Hatori is taking rather longer. There are complications.

"Now, the first two are going to be moved to the recovery ward to be monitored, and if there is a way to save Sohma Hatori, it will be done. In the meantime, visiting hours are long over and I suggest you come back in the morning."

Tohru and Momitchi join Ayame's immediate and vehement protestations as Haru simply shakes his head and Hiro says, "Oh, so you think some idiotic rule they drilled into you on Policy Day is more important than our familial bonds? I hate people who think their values matter more than anyone else's."

Akito waves his hand at Kureno. "Take care of this."

The heretofore silent man rises and asks the woman with the strained politeness of one unused to social interaction, "Whom could I speak to about the duration of our stay here?"

"Ah, my supervisor could circumvent policy, and to be quite frank I'm tired and I've got to get back in there so I suggest you take it up with him."

"Thank you." Kureno bows respectfully and, as she retreats to the operating room, turns to Akito. "I'll go and ask directions. What am I asking for when I find him?"

"They get the best care, and I want extra rooms for those of us who choose to stay indefinitely. I'm sure a donation to this ugly place will clear everything up," Akito says dismissively. "Ayame."

Ayame, startled, widens his eyes. "Yes, Akito-san?"

"Go with him. Your… forceful personality should speed things along."

Ayame nods, hating the man and himself for being so grateful. Something he can do. Mask back on.

"Absolutely! Who could resist my charms for long?" He shoots up and takes Kureno's arm. "We will soon have this sorted out to everyone's mutual satisfaction!" He sweeps the looming brown-haired man away.

* * *

Ten Years Ago

"Mm… Gure… ohgoddon'tstop…"

Shigure closes his mouth over Ayame's and trails kisses to his ear, whispering, "Aya-chan, hush. If even a servant hears us we're dead."

They are in one of the many spare rooms of the Main House, engaging in the kind of activities every healthy teenager imagines doing and they, to set an example of the "follow every dream even if you get lost doing it" variety, actually do.

"Why?" Aya whimpers, tugging at the buttons on Shigure's school shirt as best as possible while trapped between his friend and the wall. "Our parents don't care." Certainly true. Even Ayame's Puritanical mother has given up on her whore of a son, he thinks bitterly.

Shigure pulls back, face unusually serious. "I mean it, Aya. Akito will have me skinned alive. Or actually, I think he's developed a style that would involve skinning you alive while I watch."

Ayame groans softly, genuinely irritated. Always with the Akito of it.

"He's _nine_, Gure."

"Tell me you've never looked in his eyes and known that isn't so."

"Fine." Aya shoves Shigure back as gently as he can under the circumstances – the circumstances being that he is thoroughly pissed – and begins straightening his clothes. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Aya!" Gure pouts. "Are you mad at me?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "Are you jealous?"

_What's the use of being jealous of something that was never yours? _

But that isn't true, it _isn't_. They love him as much as they do Akito.

"Of course not, Gure-san. How could I ever doubt you? After all, who in their right mind would cheat on me?"

"You are absolutely right!" Gure agrees. "And what's more, you are an expert at turning a compliment to someone's else's integrity into yet another testament to your charms." He wraps his arms around Aya from behind, virtually destroying all progress he's made towards fanning his face back to its normal ivory as he whispers huskily, "It's one of the things I find so attractive about you."

"Oh… all right. Really, truly not angry," Aya smiles.

"All right!" The chorus, flashing thumbs-up.

"And I'd best get going, so let go of me. And if you say anything about 'coming' as opposed to going I'm going to smack you."

"Aya! I can't believe you think I'd sink that low."

"Oh, I know exactly how low you'll sink," Ayame laughs, escaping and opening the door to the hall. "I'll see you later."

Shigure nods and tugs his hair affectionately before wandering off to find his beloved Akito.

He and Shigure aren't actually together, as such, but they are best friends and what are friends for if not exploration and relieving tension? Plus, the lovey-dovey stuff makes people (read: Tori-san) squirm.

Their relationship is simply _very_ open. The only person Ayame can imagine being in a monogamous relationship with is… unavailable.

He's passing by the side bedrooms to get to some back way out, an open window or something for semi-sneaking out of, when the feeling that he's not alone makes him turn.

No one seems to be there until he looks down.

The boy's like a ghost. Ayame can practically see through him. He'd thought Akito's black eyes and hair against that white skin was creepy, but at least it grounds him. The kid's gray hair covers a face turned down and away, and the absence of color is almost frightening.

There's a hand on his sleeve, a hand that's actually trembling, whether from sickness or fear, and a good person, a person like Tori, would have felt something. Guilt, sympathy, something.

"Nii-san…" But he doesn't. "Ayame…"

Ayame turns and walks away.

_I guess I'm not a good person. _

_

* * *

_

Five Years Earlier

"Yuki?"

Yuki flinches at the voice, vision still swimming and ribs sore, maybe a few of them broken, from the latest beating.

If only they were somewhere else.

_I can't breathe in this room… _

"Yuki, come here." Akito is a few yards away from the corner Yuki is huddled in, leaning against the wall. Not that far, really. Not far enough, it seemed a moment ago. Now he looks miles distant.

_Blood loss_, Yuki notes, feeling the warm trickle from the back of his head. _Disorientation._ At least his lungs aren't acting up. And stalling certainly won't help.

The floor rolls beneath him as crawls over, blood matting the hair in his eyes. _Concussion._ The wound isn't bad, but they always bleed a lot.

He makes it to Akito, who has one knee up, the other leg outstretched. He looks over slowly, rolling his head down from where he seems to have been contemplating the ceiling.

"Yuki," Akito sighs. _Third time's the charm._ "Why do you insist on behaving like this? You know it only gets you hurt."

"I'm sorry," he whispers. Pleading and begging, crawling like the nezumi he is because dignity… well, it's for people who can afford it. People who aren't pathetic. People who are people, not freaks.

Akito gently pulls the twelve-year-old around, seating him between his legs. The cold silk of his yukata stings on the stripes on Yuki's back, and he bites back a hiss of pain. The sting fades to a low burn and becomes almost soothing, though, and he relaxes slightly.

Akito's arms drape over his shoulders, one hand tracing a path down Yuki's arm.

The older boy has always been a tactile person; Yuki doesn't think he's seen him not draped on something or someone. But with him… it's different.

"Of course you're sorry. That doesn't help much, though, does it? Now, why did you do that?"

Akito should be running down to his gentle phase by now, and Yuki tries not to set him off again. It makes everything worse, these times, times when Akito is polite, and then kind, and then loving and Yuki can pretend that he's always like this. When he can pretend that everything is okay and that he deserves Akito's love.

It makes it worse when reality comes crashing back in.

Yuki closes his eyes. "Kagura was just… She just wanted to ask a question, and I only told her I didn't know. That was all, three words."

"After I expressly forbade your speaking to anyone."

"I… I messed up, I was wrong to – to disobey you."

"Why, though?"

"Because she was – because I'm weak."

Akito holds him tighter and Yuki winces. "Yes, you are," he says absently, lips brushing Yuki's ear. He isn't paying attention to the conversation any longer. When Yuki turns his head, he has that hot, heavy look in his eyes that has become a source of almost as much dread as the whip.

And as he's come to expect, the fifteen-year-old's hand clasps the back of his neck, drawing him into a kiss.

Yuki tries to just not move, but Akito presses closer, demanding a response, one hand dragging Yuki's yukata off at the shoulder.

So Yuki calls up all the remaining strength in his arms and shoves himself away.

Akito appears barely to notice, following him down and pinning his sore wrists with one hand whilst the other strokes his cheek.

The older boy looks… bewildered?

"Akito-sama," Yuki says as evenly as possible, "please stop." This is going too far, already he can tell it might not stop where it always does.

Akito stares down into his eyes.

What he sees must not be good enough.

The look disappears and he smiles. "You should just be grateful you have someone who loves you so much."

"_Don't _-" But he does, the kiss rougher this time, deeper.

_Curl up until the storm goes by… _

But he isn't used to this, not this.

He tries to yank his hands free, heart stuttering, terrified without being certain what of.

Akito suddenly sits upright, straddling him and pulling him up by the shirt so that their faces are inches apart.

"You've wanted this," he hisses, abruptly furious. "You've been making me feel this… this way… filthy slut!"

"I didn't – mean to, Akito, I'm s – sorry -" He's crying again, choking, and _Oh god, don't let me have an attack now… please just make it stop, I'm so sorry… _

But god is the one doing it.

"Shut up!" And then a look of awful, dead calm descends on his face. "Enough. Enough waiting. You're mine… it isn't wrong if you're mine…"

* * *

Hatori is looking for Akito, or he never would have come to this part of the house.

Maybe in the back of his mind he is hoping to distract Akito, and that's why he hasn't waited. It's only natural the two should be close; they're growing up together, and both sickly, intelligent. They're god and nezumi… they look like twins separated by birth, even…

Only he's the one Hatsuharu-kun fetches when Yuki can't hide the blood.

There's nothing natural about that.

He turns the corner and registers that Akito is there, starts, "Akito-" and stops. The family head is slumped against the door to that room, Yuki's room. He doesn't appear to have moved recently. He looks shocked, numb.

"Hatori." He's pale and mussed, blood all over his clothes.

"Akito, are you all right?"

"I'm going to my rooms." He stands upright, gesturing to the closed door. "You may enter. I believe Yuki is in need of your assistance." And he glides away.

He looks nearly ill, and Hatori considers going after him and insisting on looking him over. But he can do that as soon as he's seen to Yuki. A delay of moments…

He slides the door open quickly, proving to himself that he has no irrational fears. It's just a dark room. The only one with cause to fear it –

Is lying, curled in a fetal position, in the center of the floor rather than his usual corner. His clothes are loose and torn, covered in blood.

Hatori, at twenty-two, is two years from graduating from an excellent accelerated medical program that will give him the legal credibility to be the Sohma family doctor. In practice, he already has the honor of the position, and in this family that means he gets plenty of practice on every kind of sickness because of Akito, and every kind of injury because of everyone else.

There were times he wondered if the best thing he could do as family doctor wouldn't be to sterilize everyone with a drop of Sohma blood in their veins.

"Yuki, it's Hatori. I'm going to check you for anything broken, all right? If there's nothing too wrong we'll move you to my office." He runs a hand gently down Yuki's arms, watching the boy's face for a reaction under blood-caked bangs. He wishes Akito wouldn't hurt his head…

His eyes don't open, but he jerks and begins to shiver violently.

"It's just me, Yuki. I won't… hurt…"

All the right things to say dissolve in his mouth as he moves around to the boy's back.

The whipping has torn his shirt to ribbons, blood caking much of the material and obscuring how bad the injuries may actually be. But that isn't anything new. The blood lower down, where his yukata is tangled protectively around his legs…

Hatori scoops the boy up bridal-style and rushes him out of that room.

* * *

"There's nothing we can do," Hatori reminds himself again. _Akito… _

_God. _

_Akito is god… _

Hatori is dying inside. Doing what is right has always been very simple for him. He does not find any other course attractive, or as Aya and Gure are constantly phrasing it, he's a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun.

And now he doesn't know what is right.

So he's going to let god decide, and he hates himself for it.

"Only…" he continues, "we have to tell Aya."

Shigure puts a gentle arm around his shoulders, and he leans into the embrace gratefully. "Ha-san, we can't."

"What? Gure, it's his brother –"

"Exactly. And if he knows, he has two choices. To act, or to remain passive. If he does something, he'll get hurt. He's a Sohma and juunishi. Akito can do to him whatever he likes, and he could hurt Aya very badly. And Ha-san… you're not going to do anything. Do you want Aya to feel what you're feeling now?"

* * *

Shigure watches his friend.

There's no danger of Ayame doing anything. He knows that. The snake honestly doesn't care for his brother, and wouldn't put himself in danger for him. That wouldn't fit into Shigure's plans at all. Not the way Ha-san might, deep down, blame Aya a little, and not the way Aya might blame himself.

He is going to keep Ayame as pure as possible, and Ha-san has always done well bearing burdens with only his help.

Then, too, it would be much more expedient if Ayame found out when he a) already cared and b) could do something about it, something to endear him to Yuki.

All Shigure wants, really, is for them to be closer. All of them, closer. Trusting and happy.

On his timetable.

And Hatori, as Shigure knew he would, says, "You're right. You're right, of course, Gure." He laughs bitterly. "Who'd believe me if I told them you're the one who keeps me from acting rashly half the time."

"Not Aya, that's for sure," Gure says with sympathetic laughter.

_No on, Ha-san. No one. That's the beauty of it. _

_

* * *

_

Four Years Earlier

"Akito! My little Akki-chan." On the look that sears through him, Shigure drops his head to the mats and amends, "Akki-sama."

"I didn't send for you," Akito says, lolling in his window.

"I know! For three whole days." Shigure fakes tears. "I got so lonely."

Akito glares at him.

_A bad day, perhaps? _

"Why? Why do you pretend to like me?"

Shigure settles back on his heels, startled, but a beautiful arm beckons him closer. "Come here. And start talking this instant."

"I don't pretend to like you, Akito. You know that we all love you, respect you, fear you." He reaches the window and leans back against the sill. "But I admit not many of us like you. I do. I think you understand me, and I think I understand you."

"And that's true," Akito says, studying his eyes. "Did it hurt, Shigure?" Unusually, he does not touch the inu.

"See what I mean?" Shigure reaches out to touch the younger man's cheek, missing the contact in a way that frightens him but does not interfere with his easy smile.

Akito smacks his hand aside. "Go away," he mutters, looking out the window again dismissively.

Shigure speaks without thinking for the first time he can remember. "Yuki missing you?"

Akito looks back, face inscrutable. "Are you jealous?"

Gure raises his eyebrows. "Of Yuki's life?"

His face tightens, tenses. "No."

_Is he… nervous? _

And Shigure realizes he cannot test this limb for stability as he always does, for that is the very thing that will crack it.

So he drops.

"Of his time with you? Of your feelings for him?" He leans forward, pulling Akito insistently towards himself. "Yes." And he kisses that devilishly angelic mouth.

_Day for firsts,_ Shigure thinks dizzily as Akito goes stiff with shock… and then melts in his arms.

He thinks about pulling away and asking what this means. He is a writer; words are his life. Words and stories are how he controls things.

Then Akito moves off the sill and into his arms, and Shigure realizes that thoughts and words…

…really aren't necessary.

* * *

Chapter Five

Present

Akito stares numbly at the floor.

His whole body aches and his head hurts. In addition, he's cold, so cold his teeth would chatter if he let them. But there's no one to hold him. Kureno and Ayame are still gone, and everyone in the hall is too young or too disgusting or… Hatsuharu – why is he so angry? It feels as though his heart hasn't had enough blood to it and is regaining circulation, the way it prickles. He's barely staying White.

Akito hopes very much that he manages there. Yuki and Hatori can't spare the boy's energy, and then he'll have to punish him later…

Anyway, those are all excuses. He wants Shigure, Hatori, or Yuki to hold him. He wants it so much it's hard to breathe, and is terrified that one of them never will again…

He won't allow himself to consider the possibility of losing two.

Kureno's ugly, seldom-worn brown shoes come into view. "They have private rooms, as well as two additional for those of us staying the night," he reports softly. Akito loves his voice. It's always quiet.

"We already _have_," Hiro says. "It's one in the morning. I hate people who can't keep track of time."

Akito looks over at them. His Kisa is asleep, curled on the Honda woman's lap. Honda Tohru is asleep herself, head with its mud-brown hair slumped against Kyo's shoulder. He does not seem to object to this arrangement, having sunk down in his chair to accommodate the shorter girl.

Momitchi is asleep as well, leaning against Hatsuharu, and on his other side only Kureno's entrance has saved Hiro from doing the same.

"You will be called when there is any change," he announces, standing. "Kyo, take them to that wretched hovel you live in."

Kyo automatically looks sullen at having to follow an order, but he obeys with alacrity nonetheless, stifling whatever foul language he was contemplating after a glance at the girl asleep on his shoulder.

_Oh, my… and after I've been so lenient. Even after you told me how you felt about her… maybe you shouldn't be getting so comfortable, Kyo my darling. _

He doesn't wait to see them go, but leans against Kureno and starts for his injured ones, ignoring the grating protests from Honda-san.

A male voice, too calm to be Kyo – ironically, considering their respective inner conditions – calms her and she shuts up even as they pull out of earshot and reach an elevator.

Kureno punches a button for the top floor and the doors begin to close, only to be caught by Hatsuharu. He slips in, expressionless as ever. "Mind if I stay?"

Akito shrugs indifferently. Something is bothering him, but he doesn't have time to concentrate on it now. He needs to hold onto Hatori and Yuki.

_Shigure… thank _god_ you're all right, hmm? _

The doors slide open on another cold hall filled with too much ugly fluorescent light. "He's through there," Kureno says, pointing to a nearby door.

"I wish to be alone with him," Akito announces, releasing his ondori's arm.

Kureno nods, worn into the pattern of jealousy and still visibly forcing his fists not to clench. Akito is glad.

He closes the door behind himself and finally, finally there is some semblance of dark. The lights are off but for a bedside lamp and the blinking machines, and but for that all-pervasive smell it could be a normal room.

Those machines are like hulking trolls standing guard around the bed, and the figure in it would be obscured if Akito didn't have excellent night vision. And then, any doubt would certainly be dispelled by the cheerful wave and cheeky call of, "Akito! What a nice surprise."

He glides over and only then notices Ayame, huddled in a chair beside the bed and hidden by the machines. Incredible – Ayame in a room and unnoticed.

Akito glares. "I need to speak with Shigure alone."

The hebi nods, keeping his head down for a moment before looking up with a smile. "Of course, Akito, whatever you wish!" He trills in a subdued manner, repeatedly smoothing his sleeves nervously.

As the door closes behind him, the family head says distantly, "You could have died."

Shigure, pale and with several butterfly-bandaged cuts on his forehead, answers with a smile, "Now I know how you feel, ne?"

"No. You don't."

"No…"

"You know something, Shigure? The only difference between us is that you're better at what we do. No one notices."

"I'm glad I pulled through. No, really." He grins. "I can feel the love and welcoming this family extends to me. Oh, and speaking of extending, where is my little flower? I believe I could use some nursing." The grin slips subtly into a leer.

Akito grimaces. "Do not speak of her to me. And while you're at it, keep your perverted sexual fantasies to yourself as well."

Shigure's hand seeks his out and clasps it loosely. "I'm tired," he whispers. "I'm tired of this game my life's turned into."

_But you'll keep playing it, because you have to win. And I'll keep fighting you, because if you ever did… you'd be done. We'd be done. _

So Akito doesn't say any of the things he wants to stay. He crawls onto the bed and lies with his head on Gure's shoulder, and reassures them both that he's there to stay.

* * *

Three Years Ago

Akito hums idly, twisting a strand of hair around his finger.

Realizes what he's doing, and considers stopping. But what good is being a god if you can't do whatever you feel like?

The knock on the door snaps him to himself, and he answers with almost as much irritability as is normal, "What?"

"It's Kureno, Akito-sama. I need to speak with you, if I may."

"Come in." The tall, brown-haired man does, opening and closing the door and kneeling, all silently. "I am of course always available to my juunishi. Is something troubling you?"

There is, he can feel it just as he could always feel the crush the ondori has nourished, the worshipful love that combines the feelings of Hatori and Shigure with none of their respective misgivings and manipulations.

"Yes. A – Akito, I need to leave."

"What do you mean – leave? Kureno-kun, if you want to take a trip you're welcome to." He shouldn't have been so easy, only… only with Shigure he feels easier. Maybe he should just tell everyone about them…

"I don't want a trip, Akito. I need to move." He takes a shaking breath. "I cannot see – this family anymore."

Akito shakes his head slowly. "Excuse me?" His voice has dropped to a dangerous whisper, saved only by incredulity from becoming fury.

"Living here has become to painful." Those beautiful, sincere brown eyes stare up into his. "I can't do both any more."

_Living. Here. _

Akito is instantly inches away, hands imprisoning Kureno's face. "No, Kureno," he whispers. "That isn't how this works. You belong to me; your life belongs to me. You will live and you will do it where and as I say."

And his ondori, face heating under his hands, says, "No."

Eyes wide, Akito repeats, "No."

"I'm so sorry. I tried to live without… without you. I'd gotten used to it nearly, like getting used to living on a mountain without enough oxygen. But now… Shigure… I am truly glad for you, Akito. I just can't watch."

There is no need to ask how he knows. Akito had made no attempt to hide it from him, not Kureno… Partly to share his own joy, partly to see the sorrow in those lovely eyes.

"Kureno, my Kureno…" Akito runs a hand through hair the color of autumn. "I love you, you know that."

"But not –" he sighs. "Akito. You are god; I will do anything for you. But I have to leave, and not even you can change that."

"Do not," his voice is gentler than ever as his fingers curl in that hair, "tell me what I can and cannot do." He jerks the older man's head back and slaps him viciously across the face.

Nothing.

"You belong to me! Your _life_ belongs to me! You will leave, you will not die, you will do nothing I do not allow!" He rages, hitting the man again with each sentence and feeling blood begin to pour from his lip and nose.

All of them… why do they do this, why do they insist on defying him when all he does is keep them safe? Safe with him…

Kureno sits, motionless, and Akito concentrates. Finally, through the haze of accepted and returned love from Shigure, he feels the other man's despair.

The depth of it frightens him. He wonders if it has a bottom.

Kureno stands. He really is very tall.

"I see," he says softly. "In that case, Akito-sama… if you will excuse me…"

"No. No, you will stay."

"I can't," he says gently, voice breaking.

And for the first time… one of his juunishi has made a resolution he cannot command, frighten, or soothe away.

"Kureno, don't –" his voice catches as he desperately grabs the ondori's shoulders. "Don't leave me."

_So there will be another way. _

"I love you..." He pulls him into a passionate kiss.

* * *

Shigure walks slowly. Aimlessly, even. Thinking of Akito.

They aren't the perfect happy couple. Neither of them is the poster child for mental health, and Akito is certifiable.

But two negatives can make a positive.

Maybe he can achieve his dream without too many people getting hurt. Maybe, if things will never be perfect, they'll still be okay.

He finds himself at the open doors to Akito's rooms, in from the garden, and laughs at himself.

Aimless?

He steps in, through a door Hatori would not want open in this autumn weather, and leaves them alone because Akito wants them that way.

And he looks at the futon, and the tangle of exhausted, sweaty tangle of limbs.

Such simple, physical things. Understood but not comprehended, objects without intent. So it's funny, isn't it? How his heart breaks in places he hadn't known were there at the sight. That maybe hadn't been there until Akito kissed him.

Funny.

That adorable head rises, hair mussed as if from sleep, and obsidian eyes glint at him.

He likes pain.

Shigure knows in that instant that he won't apologize. Won't even stop if he feels it's necessary, what he's done, and he can do this because he is a god and Shigure will love him anyway. He will stand here with his heart in tatters and part of that boy will love it and there is nothing…

…nothing…

…one thing. Ha – the extra O and a space…

Akito has a lot of a deity in him. But he has all of a human and Shigure is going to remind him just how easy it is to be hurt.

So he walks away without a word, without even looking at whomever else is in that bed. Guns don't kill people.

People kill people.

* * *

Days later…

A sixteen-year-old boy curls up on his bed and sobs out his broken heart.

* * *

"You will leave."

Akito stays in his window and does not look at Shigure, who remains kneeling. His eyes flicker and he pales slightly, but Akito does not see. "We own a house… it isn't far. Just 'outside.' You got Ayame out… this will be good for you. Help you to concentrate on your writing." His voice is thick with scorn.

_Why… I hurt you. Why don't you hit me? _

Shigure could smack himself for sheer idiocy. They don't hit, not each other. They have far more effective ways of causing pain. Two peas in a pod…

And this is not going to play well with his plan, either. Alone and isolated, he will hardly be able to wield the influence he needs to.

What frightens him more is that he can't seem to care.

"Do not return until I summon you."

He wants to tell Akito to close the windows. As ever, he measures his motivations against Hatori's, who would want to squeeze every last moment out of life, whether it's precious or no, for their Master.

He just wants Akito to look at him.

"Now get out."

* * *

Ayame knew, in some vague part of his mind, that they own these woods, but he's never been there before. He knows in some vague part of his mind that they own half of town; it doesn't mean he's going to inspect the place. Especially with his susceptibility to temperature and being bumped into by women.

But he finds the house quickly, thanking goodness for the mild fall day.

Hatori mentioned Shigure's move when Aya called him a few hours ago. Apparently, it was felt that Shigure could use some peace and quiet. Apparently, this feeling came over Akito suddenly, but at least a week ago. Hatori had assumed Aya had been informed.

He is very curious to find out why he wasn't.

He can only assume there is trouble in paradise, trouble he's been expecting for nine months, since Shigure gave up keeping his lover secret from his two best friends, one of whom is very nosy. Aya hates this, all these secrets. In high school, Gure never would have kept a secret from him. Not until Akito stepped in again, taking the most precious aspects of Gure's life and twisting them. Hatori as much as said Gure wouldn't tell him what had happened, had pled needing time.

For Ha-san's sake, for Aya's sake, and for his own sake, Gure-san is going to tell Ayame whether he wants to or not.

He's hurt, angry, and frightened for his friend. Whoever decided that an insane adolescent should cradle the mental, emotional and physical well being of an entire clan – _including me... why can't I just despise him, forget him?_ - in his deformed claws should be skinned alive and then burned, in his opinion.

But… but Gure-san is out. Outside.

Aya is under no illusions about why he was allowed to leave the Sohma Compound. Shigure's influence over the family head goes unnoticed by most, but it is there. And he shouldn't have left, should have stayed to protect them… but what was the use? It had begun to feel so hopeless.

And now Gure's out. And Hatori is leaving more often as well, what with… with Kana…

He reaches the front porch of what is, by Sohma standards, a charming little cottage. The doors are open, the inside shadowed and empty-feeling.

"Guuuure-kuuuun!" He calls joyfully. Because he is joyful, it's what he does. "My love, are you here?" He waltzes in, brightening the place up directly with bright red-and-blue robes and running a judicious eye over the décor.

Well… there's certainly room for improvement.

"Shigure?"

"Ayame! Life, love, and destiny in human form!" From a hallway, his yukata-clad friend barrels out enthusiastically and twirls him around. "How long have been these empty hours without you by my side!"

"Never mind, sweet darling, I am here now and will fill your bruised and aching heart with my effulgent love!" Ayame cries passionately, wrapping his arms around the other man. "Do you want to have breakup sex?"

Gure blinks, then chuckles. "Ah, you're sneaky, aren't you, Aya," he says, wagging a finger remonstratively. "Who says I've broken up?"

Ayame looks pointedly around at the house. "Mm, where shall I start?"

"Aya…"

"Just tell me what happened."

Gure takes a deep breath to give a long and complex speech on the reasons why he can't, based on great logic, foresight, and powers of rhetoric.

Ayame sits down on the nearest box and stares up at him the rapt attention of a five-year-old in front of a television, pointedly vacant.

_In one ear and out the other… _

Gure deflates in the face of what he doubtless realizes to be futility personified. "I made Akito very angry, and he kicked me out."

Ayame, contrary to popular opinion, can be quiet when he really, really wants to. And there's nothing like silence to make other people fill it. He should know; it's usually his job.

"He did something that… you know, I think more than anything it just made me angry. Angry and embarrassed. So I… did something a hell of a lot worse. I didn't even think about it, I just went and did it. It was easy. I didn't feel a thing… not a thing… and I made sure he saw, planned it all out so prettily… after what she did to him…" He looks at Ayame, gray eyes wide with realization. "I really am a heartless bastard, aren't I," he says, sounding dazed.

"No! Gure-kun, no, you were angry. We all do things when we're angry, things we regret later… things like…"

"Sleeping with Ren."

"Ohh…"

"Yeah."

"Still. Sometimes good people do bad things, Gure, it doesn't mean that you're heartless."

* * *

_Then why are you so focused on that little comment, Aya? _

_Methinks he doth protest too much… _

Shigure leans over to kiss Aya's forehead. "You're right," he sighs. And, with less sincerity but much more honesty, he adds, "Anyway, even if I was a heartless bastard, I'd still love you to bits, Aya-kun."

_But I am. I really am. All I've got left is my dream, now he's torn my heart out. My dream and… Aya and Ha-san… _

_Aya. Who is outside. With me. _

_Now, what could be better for the juunishi than getting out more? _

And just like that, his mind is back on track. Plotting is such an ugly word, but planning really doesn't cover the scope.

His heart will just have to wait.

* * *

Chapter Six

Present

Ayame, with an idea that Kureno is alone in the hall, Akito with Shigure, and Haru with the newly-brought- up Yuki, folds on of his delicate hands around Ha-san's strong ones. He's glad they're out of surgery, but no one will tell him anything for sure about their chances for survival, and he doesn't like that they have to avoid the topic. It makes him want to not know.

He drops his head onto the bed. "Ha-san… please wake up."

_I'm sorry I didn't protect you, again. _

He carefully combs the hank of longer bangs over Hatori's left eye. Not that they're better that way, but it's how Ha-san likes them and… so, yes. They are better that way.

"I still have to talk you into wearing one of my racier creations, remember? And take a picture, or Gure will never cough up those yen… and I don't think Mabaduchi Duo has quite the same ring to it…"

"Don't you ever shut up?" The voice (and, Aya admits to himself, the words and tone) could be Yuki's but for the personality behind them.

"Akito! You know, people are always asking me that and I simply cannot fathom why. But I heard somewhere that you're supposed to talk, to hurt people I mean, that they can hear you even when they're, you know, not quite there." Under Akito's glare and the weight of his own subject, the words peter out.

Akito circles to the other side of Hatori's bed and stands, looking down at him expressionlessly. Which is when Hatori groans and his eyes flutter open.

"Ha-san!" Ayame shrieks, throwing himself on his friend's chest. "Oh thank god!"

"You're welcome," Akito whispers. "Now go and see Shigure before you strangle my doctor, little boa."

He strokes Aya's hair and Ayame stands obediently if only to get away from that touch, away from his reaction to it.

Hatori blinks and Ayame can see his befuddled mind making connections. Akito plus hospital equals…

" 'kito… you all right?" His speech slurs in a way even drinking doesn't make it – not that Ha-san drinks, not when he has his ghastly cigarettes to kill himself with without interfering with his powers of cognition and dignity – but it improves as he continues, "What happened?"

His hand falls on Akito's in some automatic attempt to administer, and the boy's eyes widen.

"Ha-san," Ayame says, lingering, "It wasn't Akito who got hurt. There was an accident, don't you remember?"

Hatori frowns, then his expression clears slightly. "The truck… came out of nowhere. I should have been paying closer attention."

Off Akito's look, Ayame sings, "Well, and I must be off to see to my Gure! But rest assured I have not left your side since saving your life, sweet Ha-san!" And he leaves before charmingly sparkling eyes overflow in unsightly tears.

* * *

"Saving my life?" Hatori wonders aloud.

Akito contemplates a moment, then ventures, "He did help to procure your room."

"Ah."

Akito brushes aside his bangs, needing to see that eye and know it doesn't see him, not really, but that he was the last thing it did see. "You had my telephone number." There is no response, and he elaborates, "In your wallet. As the number to call in case of emergency."

"I guessed that if something like this occurred, it would make it easier on me if you were the first to know. It would hardly do to survive a brush with death only to have you launching vases at my head for being late for you checkup," Hatori muses calmly.

Akito clenches his teeth, then smiles. "Hatori, you made a joke." He runs a loving hand over his dragon's face. That eye is the most beautiful part of him. It proves that Akito can do whatever he wants to them and they won't leave.

That Hatori loves him too much to go.

That he did then…

"Hatori –" he stops.

Hatori looks at him for a long moment and then nods, resigned. "Everything will be fine, Akito."

"But I don't _want_ –" and again he can't finish, choking back tears and feeling four years old. "You promised!"

"I kept it."

"No! No, you will stay as long as _I_ am here. I am god!"

Hatori gently squeezes his hand. "I know you are."

* * *

Three Years Ago

Yuki smiles.

He practices that smile. He's gotten good at it. Akito is always telling him that he's cute. That he looks like a girl. And Yuki hates it, but smiling does seem to get things done. People like it when he smiles; it makes them feel better about themselves.

"Yuki-san, welcome." His mother's maid – not one he recognizes – looks puzzled, and doesn't quite ask if he shouldn't be with Akito, if he has permission to be here. "Your mother is out at the moment…"

"That's fine. I just wanted to pick something up," he reassures her, head tilted in his most persuasive smile. She nods and blushes and steps aside, gesturing for him to enter.

She won't last long in this house.

Yuki slips off his shoes, and disguising his limp, walks directly to his mother's bedroom and through it, to her bathroom.

He flicks on the blinding lights, reflecting off glass, stainless steel and porcelain everywhere. It's full of sharp corners and edges, this room.

Mirrors and edges…

_If you didn't deserve this, I wouldn't do it. Or someone would stop me, right, Yuki? Hatori or your parents? Someone would save you… _

He opens the mirrored cabinet above the sink. It's filled with bottles and jars, no small percentage of which are fashionable medications. He sifts through them carefully, not disturbing any placements.

_You're mine. That's why I love you even though you're a freak your own parents couldn't stand. You're lucky, Yuki, lucky I love you so much. _

It's a plain enough clear, orange tube, nearly all full. A white, childproof cap and a piece of white paper stuck to the side with directions, which he reads carefully and automatically as he closes the cabinet. Then he tucks it into his satchel with the books his tutor gave him. Or, the books his tutor ordered and Akito paid for. Akito pays for all his schooling… at least, the estate, the family, does and it comes to the same thing.

_If you had to go to a real school you wouldn't get such perfect grades. All those filthy outsiders would hate you… or you'd lie all day, pretending to be caring so that they'd like you when all you are, is boring Yuki. _

He smiles again at the maid as he leaves.

Today wouldn't be so bad. After what Akito did to him a few days ago, he'd be sweet today. Everything would be fine, and Yuki would remember why he loves him, too, maybe for a few weeks even. And he wouldn't… wouldn't do _that _again for at least a month, maybe two. He has a pattern, usually.

Except. Except that he's done something awful. Forging his way through application papers to nearby schools. Outside, co-educational ones. Except that Akito's been manic-depressive since Shigure moved out. Except that Akito knows all the incoming mail, and when acceptance forms start coming (and he will be accepted, he knows enough about his skills at studying to be sure of that) Akito will know. And he'll be so… very… angry…

So today, when Akito sends for him, he just won't be there.

* * *

Rin has so many things she could be doing, things not involving checking up on Haru's Princess. Or, no wait – Prince. Right.

But Haru got lost – Akito said he was going to start leashing the boy, and Rin prayed he was joking because then she'd have to take the family head out – and only had the money for two calls. One to Momiji so Hatori would come pick him up. And one to Rin.

"Please? He kind of needs to know we don't forget."

He sounded so calm, like he always does. Like he didn't even care.

She knows a thing or two about that – people thinking that you don't care when you do, or vise-versa. So she'd said, "Fine," and slammed the phone down.

She doesn't have anything against Yuki, not really, but he is Akito's bitch and who knows what the "Master" could worm out of him. Things like Haru sneaking in to see him.

Then she'd just have to kill him, too, and that would be no fun.

And now she's at Yuki's bedroom door. She could knock, but really, why bother? So she charges in. "Hey Yuki, your precious Haru wants me to make sure you haven't slit your wrists in his absence –"

He's on the bed, curled up and sleeping. She stops talking, figuring he can use the rest and anyway, who's stupid enough to try waking the Yukinator?

The uma shrugs and goes over to his desk, yanking a drawer completely out and placing it on top of the desk. Taped to the back of the space is a cigarette, one she hid there a while back when her mom was trying to bum hers. She's stopped pretending to confiscate them for Rin's own good now, so she's safe taking this one out.

Yuki hadn't minded her hiding it there, which was decent, but he'd given her one of those self-righteous looks. Like he had the right to expect something different.

Something more.

_Weird,_ she thinks, catching sight of something in the drawer when she goes to put it back in. _Mr. Tight-ass is drugging?_ An empty sleeping pill bottle.

"_Haru! Really, I am fine." And his voice had dropped. "I'll be fine soon…" _

"_Soon?" _

_He hadn't suspected anything then. Neither had Rin, who was listening to the hallway since neither of them seemed to have any concern for Haru's safety. But Yuki had realized his mistake with regard to Haru, who would turn it over in his deliberate mind and realize things eventually. _

"_As soon as I get this awful math work off my mind," Yuki had said. And he'd smiled ruefully and dropped his head on Haru's shoulder. _

Rin feels a flash of disgusted respect at the amateurish manipulation of Haru, who, faced with that smile, that touch, would instantly drop any subject Yuki led him away from.

She feels this disgust in the back of her mind, as she is already running for Hatori.

* * *

Akito slides open the door to Hatori's office silently. Silent… he is always silent. A ghost. Sometimes he yells and hurts people, just to remind them that he is not.

The desk light is on, his ryu sitting and reading in that small place where the dark has been driven back.

He looks up as Akito comes in and blinks. "Akito." His voice is cold. He tries not to let it be but it is, because they blame him, insofar as they can blame him for anything. Akito doesn't especially care; they're right to. But they'd best get over it before this treatment begins to annoy him.

He doesn't feel like talking, so he nods at the astute observation and glides over to the back bedroom, kept for those who need to be near Hatori but need not or should not be in the hospital.

Usually, his juunishi. And usually empty. They're a healthy lot. All but himself… and Yuki…

He is in nezumi form, lying on the pillow. He stayed human long enough for them to pump his stomach, but soon after he transformed, and now he lies there with machines that cannot be hooked up bleeping around him. It's a good thing he's strong, physically… Akito wonders how Hatori manages, really, with all the things that they have to be careful of. All the necessary things that could kill them. He wonders how they'd get along without Hatori, but dismisses the thought because they'll never have to.

Hatori is standing just behind him now, and Akito can feel the way he hovers, but his eyes are only for Yuki.

He walks closer, feeding that frayed line more of himself.

That pop sounds, and the smoke that always accompanies the transformation momentarily obscures the bed, and then Yuki is lying there in his human form.

Hatori grabs a pair of Yuki's pajamas from where they are folded on a chair and steps around Akito to put them on the unconscious boy. His movements are calm, but he deliberately stands in Akito's view.

He finds he doesn't care at the moment.

When he's done, Akito walks around to kneel on the edge of the bed, watching Yuki's porcelain face. So cold in sleep, though his eyes are warm and fearful when he's awake.

"Hook him up to whatever he needs," he says, struggling with his tenuous hold over Yuki's form.

Hatori hesitates – hesitates to obey an order – and then does. Several drips, doubtless important, and something starts showing the jagged line that indicates a very slow heartbeat.

"Now leave."

Hatori doesn't hesitate this time, but as he backs to the door he says, "And you? Yuki is in a very delicate condition right now. He can't take stress."

"Leave," Akito says very slowly and clearly. Hatori takes his time closing the door, but it closes.

Akito looks down at the negative image of his own face, the bleached beauty that could have been his. If there weren't thirteen vengeful spirits drawing on him, inside him. If he wasn't strong and didn't like hurting people so much.

If he was weak and kind and someone thought he was precious.

He lays his head on Yuki's chest, feeding him as surely as any of the machines.

* * *

Yuki sits, a few days later, huddled over on the floor of his room. He thinks…

He tries not to think.

_Stupid. So stupid. Can't even die right… _

He'll be punished; the knowledge is hanging on him like a weight on his shoulders. And when the letters start coming…

_Oh god… _

He isn't even afraid any longer. He's gone through terror and out the other side, where everything is far away and fuzzy and he's too calm to move.

Crumpled on the floor, he is aware that he must look like an abandoned rag doll to Shigure, who is standing above him, so close that Yuki can see his white-socked toes between his knees. He knows Shigure is talking, because Shigure always is. Pretty words that make promises and none of them mean anything.

"… have you, Yuki-kun?"

He should answer, but he wasn't listening.

"So you want to come live at my house?"

Yuki looks up very slowly. He does not want to believe this, because if he does he'll start hoping. Akito keeps telling him not to do that…

… And if he does he'll have to feel again. No more blanket.

And it can't be.

Shigure, who has never respected a boundary in his life, leans down until his nose almost touches Yuki's. Yuki doesn't mind, with him, because he knows that it isn't his own fault for not having boundaries when Shigure does it. Shigure does it to everyone.

"So? Do you?"

"A – Akito –"

"Oh ye of little faith!" Shigure winks cheekily. "I have my ways." He taps his nose. "Akito has already agreed. If you want to, of course. It's completely up to you." He grins.

"What?"

"_Mine alone, forever." _

"_Yuki… you wouldn't ever leave me, would you? Even if you could? You love me, do you not?" _

"_I'm the only one who could ever love you. That's why I can't let you go, not ever."_

"Well, I understand if you don't." Gure pats the top of his head and begins to stand.

Yuki latches desperately to his sleeve, all the feelings beginning to leak back in. "I want to!" He chokes. "Shigure, if this is a joke…"

"Ah! Again, kindness repaid with threats! Why was I born into this ungrateful and violent family?" He kneels in front of Yuki, threats abruptly forgotten, and gathers his younger cousin into an embrace. "This will be so much fun! It'll be like a slumber party, only longer and less joy-filled. And, probably, no high school girls…"

He continues to babble, and Yuki is grateful for the distraction as the tears start to flow. Shigure keeps holding him, rocking him back and forth and talking as if nothing is wrong, until he stops crying.

When he's done, Shigure pulls back and looks at him with an oddly serious look.

"_Tears are power, my pet. Cause them, stop them, witness them, and you own part of a person's pain." He licked the tears from Yuki's cheeks. "And I own all of yours." _

Something about the look in Shigure's eyes reminds him that he is a tool, and that Shigure can use him now.

He doesn't care.

"When can we go?"

* * *

Akito watches his two loves pull away in a family car.

Outside.

_Why? Why aren't I enough? Why do you have to go out there where they'll hate you… _

…_hate you… _

…_You'll be back. You'll always be back. _

He turns to Kureno with a snarl on his lips. "You get to replace both of them. Congratulations."

* * *

"You have reached the bachelor pad of Sohmas Shigure and –"

"Gure-san!" Ayame trills, registering only that Shigure has picked up. "It's been ages! I began to fear that without my sweet presence you would forget our vows of true and eternal love, called astray by those sirens known as high school girls!"

"Aya, I am horrified, absolutely horrified, that the thought even crossed your lovely mind. You know you alone rule my heart."

"Oh good. In that case, would you like to come here for a bout of tempestuous lovemaking or shall I come there? And who's going to convince Ha-san to join us?"

"Hmm… well, to answer the last bit first, you call him and wrap him around your little finger with regards to the actual promise, then I'll call and spring the fact that it's tomorrow on him. And, about where we do it… and incidentally relating to other matters of no small import… What are you doing right now?"

Ayame gasps. "Gure! I can't play that game right now, Mine-chan is right here." He rolls his eyes theatrically at the sweet shop girl presently hemming a dress with him.

"Ah-ha-ha. Maybe she'd learn something… don't you have another phone so that she could join in? Seriously though, you might want to be sitting that the shock of my revelation does not cause a bruise to that precious head."

Aya jiggles in place where he kneels on the floor at the base of a dummy. "Ooh, tellmetellme!"

"You know what, ah, happened with Yuki recently?"

Ayame feels that numb, vague irritation that Yuki's name always provokes once he's attached the name to a face, but under is it is an awful, dizzy certainty that it's worked this time.

_That there won't be a later. _

But Shigure races on with, "It appears that even our much-respected leader has no wish to lose so young and precious a life to death's inextricable grasp, and so I have wrested the keys to the kingdom from him." Shigure clears his throat. "He's living with me now, Yuki is."

Ayame sits, silent, and Mine peers around the fabric at him with adoring, anxious eyes. His smile, he realizes, is very empty, but he can't seem to fill it up again.

"Hai…" He says slowly. "Well, let's make it my place then, shall we?" _Don't nag, Gure._

"Okay, Aya," Gure says gently. "Your place. This time."

* * *

Chapter Seven

Present

"Akito?"

Akito's head jerks up. _Tell me everything will be fine._

"With one less in need, you'll be able to save Yuki for certain?"

Hatori rarely asks questions unless they are of a medical nature. Hatori is the sure one. Hatori is strong. Not this way around, and Akito could hit him for acting like this.

But that would be rather pointless.

"Yes," Akito says. It isn't true, but it isn't, to his knowledge, a lie either. Hatori wants to hear it and he… he can say it.

"Would you ask Ayame to come in? There's something I should tell him. It will make him easier to deal with."

This last has been added to keep him from jealousy, but it's still true, so he stands slowly. His insides feel scraped raw. "Five minutes. Your life is mine."

A wry smile flits across Hatori's face. "Of course, Akito-sama."

* * *

"Ha-san!" Ayame drops gracefully into a chair beside the ryu. "Akito said you want to see me?" His voice stresses the name; he can't quite get over the idea of Akito doing something that resembles running an errand, especially when it involves sharing a member of the juunishi. "And Gure sends a kiss… which normally I would never dream of delivering to Tori, but as he's so vulnerable at the moment –"

"Aya, shut up."

"Okay."

Tori sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm no good at this," he mutters. "Look, Aya, is sex really that important?"

Ayame chokes, certain his ears have manifested a new symptom of the curse and are hearing things that cannot have been said. "Wh – wh –"

"I know how you feel about me."

"Oh." But Tori isn't supposed to know. No one, no one but Shigure… and Akito…

"And what I meant to say is, I'm sorry I'm so damn straight, but does it really bother you when I love you so much?"

"H – Ha-san – "

"And I've never been ashamed of you. Embarrassed as hell at some of the stunts you two've pulled, but never ashamed." He closes his eyes briefly. He looks so tired. "You should have told me."

"I'm sorry." He picks up Hatori's hand, holding onto it desperately, thinking of all the times he'd pretended the man he loved would say those words and mean them the way he wants him to and trying not to cry.

"Oh," he says again.

Maybe the way he means it is close enough.

The door opens and closes and Aya whirls to look over his shoulder, expecting Akito. Instead, a pale and sweating Shigure, leaning on a portable IV drip, stands there. "Hey," he manages.

"Gure, my love!" Aya gasps, dancing to his side and wrapping an arm around his waist just as his balance goes in earnest. He helps him over to Hatori's bed, where he leans back against Ha-san's legs with a broken sigh. "What are you doing?" He presses, confused.

"Oh, you know me… Just had to be here…" He's taken Ha-san's much-claimed hand and is holding it very tightly.

The door opens again, and Akito stands silhouetted, a comforting hole of blackness against harsh fluorescent glare.

"Time's up," he whispers.

"What time?" Ayame puts a hand to his stomach, feeling sick. "Gure, what –" he turns back to his friends just as the machines begin blaring and flat lining.

Gure is crying.

"Tori?"

* * *

Yuki has stabilized.

Ayame knows this good. But he can't feel it, here in this awful, empty room. Not with that empty bed there, made with starched new sheets and looking as if no one was ever in it.

No one at all.

Ayame hasn't cried since Akito opened the doors and his tears dried. He thinks maybe Ha-san took them with him, his tears.

He doesn't feel anything. Shigure's arms are around him, he can see them, but he can't feel them. And the tears falling from Gure's eyes onto his hands, he can't feel them either. He thinks maybe if he doesn't move they'll melt through the wall eventually, but on the other hand, how long would it take? How long can Gure cry?

He doesn't decide to stand, merely finds he has. Has walked over to face Akito, the boy slumped in a chair by the window with Kureno standing by.

Standing by. They always stand by. Because they have to, because it's always been done, because… it keeps them _safe_.

"You killed him," he hears himself say, and then reality comes crashing back in. "All of this is your fault! All of us are so screwed up and it's your fault! The _zodiac_ isn't our curse, _you_ are. You're a sick, disgusting kid who gets his own way too much and why, why do you have to twist everything around you like this…" His head drops into his hands as he realizes he can't believe the words, is completely incapable of truly blaming god. "Why them? Why couldn't you just let me have them?"

He drops to his knees when his legs give out and the tears come, and Akito gently guides his head onto the scarlet and black robe-clad knees before him and strokes his hair.

Because it's too late and they do belong to Akito. All of them.

* * *

Two Years Ago

"Isn't she wonderful?"

Ayame blinks. Tori, his Tori, prompting praise of anything? "Y – yes, she is simply marvelous! A masterpiece of the living, breathing human form!"

Hatori stops walking and his two best friends falter, turning to face him as Kana, Mayu, and Mai continue ahead on the path through the park.

"I'm only going to bring this up once, so I want you two to try and give me your honest opinions without joking around. I'm thinking of proposing to her."

There is a roaring in his ears, and he concentrates on smiling.

_No!_ He screams inside. _No, not her, not _her_… _

He feels Gure's arm around his waist and hears the inu's chatter… something about opinions on such a weighty matter needing to be carefully considered, and realizes. He's stalling, distracting Tori, waiting to follow Aya's lead. He would back his telling.

_Now or never. _

He opens his mouth.

"Ha-kun?" Kana calls from ahead.

"On minute," Hatori calls back. For that one moment, he is looking just at her, and he looks…

Happy.

As if there is no curse, no Akito.

Ayame flings his arms around his two friends in an embrace that buries his head in their shoulders, hiding his expression. "Oh Ha-san!" He gasps. "How wonderful that you have found true love! I will of course design the wedding dress, no need to thank me… How many children will you have? And you will name them Ayame and Shigure, the first two, but after that –"

"Aya, must you do this in public?" But he can hear the smile in Ha-san's voice, and he doesn't pull away.

Shigure objects, "Why Ayame and Shigure? I think chronological order is more important than alphabetical myself, and as I am several months older than either of you, 'Shigure and Ayame' has a nice –""

"Shigure!" Ha-san does yank away now, sparks flying from beautiful purple eyes.

"Oops… hand slipped…" Hatori's glare deepens, and Gure grabs Aya's hand, racing off with him. "Oh look, there go our dates! It isn't polite to keep them waiting… or send me to the hospital because of a harmless accident…"

Ayame clings to the hand and pretends it's still all he needs to feel safe.

* * *

Akito cannot believe his ears.

_Obviously I've been too lenient. _

"You wish to be married," he whispers dully, watching the happy pair before him.

"Yes, Akito-sama," his Hatori is being very proper about it all, kneeling there, head bowed, not meeting his eyes.

Akito likes respect. He likes tradition. He does not like formality. It's a very fine line, but it's there for protection.

Hatori is trying to cross it, to put it between them. But he doesn't get to. He doesn't get to put anything between them.

"Kana…" he walks to stand in front of her, and she looks up at him shyly. Ugly and false. "Do you love my Hatori?"

"Yes, Akito-sama. Deeply." She cannot help smiling and looking over at Hatori, at those eyes which have not left her once since they entered the room, not even to pacify his god.

"Would you die for him?"

There, now he's looking at him.

"Of course."

He turns to finger a nearby vase. It's glass, filled with messy wildflowers. He likes things orderly. Prefers hothouse or garden flowers. But refusing them would have hurt Momitchi's feelings, and he hadn't felt like it at the time.

"Would you kill for him?"

"Akito-sama –" Hatori protests.

"Hatori," Akito singsongs. "Did I give you permission to speak? I don't remember doing so."

"No," Hatori acknowledges.

"Akito, may I say something?" Kana asks.

White, blue, yellow. He'd just asked her a question, hadn't he? He likes red flowers. "Yes," he sighs.

"I'm not trying to take Hatori from you. Even if I could, I wouldn't do it. I just want him to be happy. Don't you want that? Doesn't he deserve that?"

_Deserve? _

"And you think life is that simple? You are all that is needed to complete his happiness?"

"Why not? I know he completes mine." She's smiling; he can hear that secret lover's smile they're sharing.

The vase shatters as it glances off Hatori's head and hits the wall.

Akito has seen – has _caused_ – Hatori's pain many times. The stoic doctor rarely makes a sound, but, too, he has heard all the noises people make when they're in pain.

This one is new. This shuddering gasp is worse.

_Did he deserve that? _

Hatori's hand is over his eye, but when Kana pulls it, bloodied and trembling, away… so much blood, there shouldn't be so much blood…

Kana chokes back a scream as he crumples to the floor, his face a portrait of apology that he's let this – asked for this to – happen. Then he's unconscious.

He wasn't looking at her, though. With all that blood…

He wasn't looking at her.

* * *

Kana, hands covered in blood, kneels at his feet in the empty room, hours later.

"You know this was your fault," he whispers, crouching to put his hands on her shoulders. "You made him put himself in danger for you, and then you didn't protect him. He trusted you, and now all he'll see when he looks at you is your failure. All he'll see with his one eye is the half of the world you stole from him."

He keeps whispering. Even after she leaves the room, the house, she hears him. She'll hear him forever.

Or until she forgets.

* * *

Ayame and Shigure stand outside the gates of the Main House, long past dark, waiting again.

_We always seem to be waiting because of Akito. _

They're waiting because Hatori has been ordered to erase Kana's memories, because she was weak. Because Ha-san will, and he'll see her home, and then he'll come straight back here to work. He'll want to be alone. Which is too bad, because he'll need to not be.

When the car pulls up to the gates, Shigure stands impassively before them, and Hatori drives up to nudge his shins with the front bumper before he cuts the engine. Ayame opens the driver's door and Hatori slowly exits the car, face immobile.

They stare at him, daring him to tell them to leave, and he shakes his head, defeated long before. "Get me out of here," he murmurs.

Hatori hadn't objected to Shigure's driving, just sat in the back with Aya's hands wrapped around his.

Ha-san's hands were so cold, and no matter how long he held them, they never got any warmer.

They reach their destination without mishap, Shigure's house small and dark in the woods. It's warm, though, and once they're in Gure's office he turns on small table lamp and they all sit, together on a futon. They each take one of Ha-san's sides and wait.

It's a long time before the tears come, and longer before they stop.

And it's the last time Aya will see Hatori cry.

* * *

Epilogue

Present

_But he did care. He loved me, loved us all. _

He can still feel how frightening it was. Brave, kind Ha-san with tears falling so fast and thick down a face that never changed, a face like a mask…

Haru is in the doorway, his face streaked with tears but calm, when Aya leans away from the cold comfort of Akito's lap.

"He's awake," Haru reports hoarsely, sticking his hands in pockets and staring fixedly at the empty bed. "Yuki is." He glances at Ayame and Akito. "He asked me to tell you."

Haru isn't judging him. Haru never judges. Still, under the glance, Aya flushes and looks away. Haru's always been so loyal to Yuki, and here he is with his head in Akito's lap after everything…

He remembers Haru patting Akito's back in the hallway and tells himself it isn't that simple.

Akito stands now, sidestepping Ayame and drifting to the doorway. "Good," he says distantly. "Ayame, with me. The rest of you stay here." He passes Haru with an absent caress as Ayame blinks.

_Me? Why would he want… _

Haru puts a hand on Akito's hand before the older boy can remove it and for a panicked second Aya thinks he's gone Black and wants to defend Yuki in the worst possible way, but his touch is respectful and he says merely, "Someone has to tell the others, if that's okay with you."

"Oh… yes, of course," Akito says, continuing out of the room.

Ayame rises gracefully and follows him, head down. The door closes them in the hallway, and Akito is no longer absent but abruptly, horribly there.

A cold hand brushes his cheek and he can't look away from eyes that have trapped his as if he's a hebi with its charmer.

Akito says gently, "I'm sorry, Ayame. I'm sorry that you never stood a chance. Maybe they would have been happier with you, for a time." He frowns, looking confused and a little sad. "I never even had to try, not really. I'd won from the beginning." Skeletal fingers tighten on Aya's face. "But if you ever try to vent your failure on me again, I will at best put you in this hospital. At worst, your brother will be back here, blaming you for his injuries." He stands on tiptoe to kiss Aya's cold, bruised cheek, and adds, "Now go be with your friend. He needs you."

And he turns and goes in to Yuki.

Ayame stops dead, caught between two people who need him even though he can't help.

_Hatori would know what to do. _

But he wouldn't be able to do anything either. None of them ever could, none but Shigure, and all Ha-san could do was damage control.

_Maybe that was enough. _

And maybe someone else is going to have to do it now, because Ha-san isn't coming back…

He enters the room again and leans on the door for a moment, forcing back down the despair. The thought that this has never been more pointless.

Haru is contemplating the phone, with Kureno unable to make the call without Akito's specific permission and Shigure oblivious, face still in his hands, alone and small.

"Haru-kun," he says softly, "would you give it a few moments and then find an excuse to go in with Yuki? I'll be in shortly as well, but I believe my presence might not have the calming effect we may wish at this time."

Haru nods, something in his eyes lightening, whether at the prospect of helping Yuki or relief at not having to tell the others that Hatori… is gone… Ayame doesn't know. He would guess both.

Ayame picks up the phone himself as the ushi ducks into the hall and Shigure stands abruptly. "Just a child… should have stopped him before this," he mutters to himself. "Here, Aya…" and he takes the phone, beginning to dial.

"I'll do it," Aya insists gently, holding down the catch.

"They're my responsibility."

"Yes," Aya acknowledges, "The others have always had you… and Hatori." He smiles a little. "They're too much for one person, Gure." He takes the phone, because he needs to prove that he's going to help.

As he dials, he realizes how much he's always been another child. Another one to run to Hatori or Shigure with a problem. Because he could afford to. Because their world, with Tori in it, had room for another dependant. Had that warm place where someone cared, even if nothing could be done. Because that world had the strength to hold him.

"Hello, Tohru-chan, it's me… yes, sweetheart, listen, I need you to get everyone up. Get them in the room and put me on speakerphone, all right? There's something you should hear together."

Ayame walks into his brother's hospital room armed with an excuse for being there, and the moment he does he wants to leave. He isn't good at being brave, and only Haru's presence dispels the thickness of air.

But he can't anymore, because if someone gets hurt Hatori isn't going to make it better.

Yuki is lying back, looking tired and gray and frightened. Haru is standing beside the bed, Akito sitting between them, leaning against the ushi.

Ayame drops a bow to Akito and claims Yuki's free hand, already chattering. "Ah, sweet Yuki-kun, I bring news for you from beyond! Gure has been forced to return to bed, but he says he will be here for you soon and sends his condolences. Tohru sends her love and a hug, Kyonkichi-kun says that you must get well soon that he may return you to the hospital himself…" He contemplates a moment; Ritsu and Kagura have joined those at Gure's house and there was a full crew. "And… Kisa sends kisses. Ritsu apologizes abjectly for causing this."

Yuki just stares up at him from behind a mask of calm. "I'm sorry about… I'm sorry, Nii-san."

"Thank you, otooto, but I'm fine," Aya says softly, picking up his brother's hand and wrapping his arms around it awkwardly. "There's Tohru's hug!"

Yuki looks caught between annoyance and amusement, either of which is better than fear.

Akito stands abruptly, drawing attention back to himself. "I'm tired," He announces, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and looking thoroughly adorable. If Haru wasn't looking fixedly at the floor, eyes dark… if Ayame hadn't spent the last nineteen years in fear of him… he might have believed the sight even in the face of those eyes.

Still, he thinks they're all right at the moment. If anyone knew Akito's moods, it's Yuki. The child is like a thermometer for the older boy. And at the moment, Yuki looks wary, but he isn't frozen-breathless terrified.

"I shall retire to the extra room now. Within three days at most we will arrange to move you all – both – back to the Main House. You will live there for the remainder of vacation as planned, Yuki, though with college to look forward to a little family time shouldn't be too much to ask, hmm?"

Yuki's hand jerks involuntarily beneath the covers, and he agrees, "No, Akito."

"Good. Pleasant dreams."

When Akito is gone, Yuki breathes a sigh of relief and then looks speculatively at the faces above him.

"Don't worry, Yuki-kun, I will allow you your privacy. I believe Gure may be pining for me, and so I must away!" He says cheerfully.

_Cheerfully. _

_When did the mask get impossible to take off? _

Yuki looks at him silently. Ayame has never been able to guess what happens in his brother's serious head, but he thinks he actually may know this time.

"I –" He tears at the mask. "I need Gure, and he needs me." Yuki's gaze softens as Ayame continues, "And you two won't get another chance for some time."

Both of them look at him like rabbits in headlights, and he puts a finger to his lips in promise and warning.

He walks toward Gure's room remembering the instinctive way Yuki's hand moved for comfort, right toward Haru.

They're going to be hurt. Anyone who tries to find happiness in this family will be, because they're Akito's and he's lost.

So Aya will help them, because that's what Ha-san would do and why he's there. To pick up the pieces once they're broken.

The End


End file.
